Charlie's Struggle
by sparozina
Summary: Why did Charlie become estranged with his family? Where is William? What is the secret of Margaret's coin? And what does Skinner have to do with all of it? This is the story about conspiracies Mulder and Scully never even begun to uncover. (Also deals with revival and its cliffhanger)
1. Charlie

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the characters. No copyright infringement is intended.

"My son is named William too," I heard my mother saying and I froze in place. It can't be! How did she know? She couldn't have known! Why did she say that to me?

It took me a while to realize that my sister is yelling, calling her: "Mom, mom, mom!"

"Dana, what's happening?" I yelled at the phone, too: "Dana?"

There was no answer. My sister kept talking, but not to me. She was crying now. I didn't need her answer, anyway. I knew. My mother just died.

I hung up the phone. I stayed on the line for too long. Why did I call her in the first place? Not only it was dangerous, it was heartbreaking too. I listened my mother die, but I couldn't be there with her. I couldn't be there for my sister. My family probably hates me by this point. How could they not? All they know is that I'm gone. They don't know why. They'll never know why.

I threw the brand new mobile phone in the first trash can. I hid the number as I dialed, so that she couldn't call me back, but my sister is an FBI agent, she might try to trace the call. I doubted she would though. I knew my sister gave up on me, just as she thinks I gave up on her.

If only I could tell her how far away from truth that is!

My mother didn't give up on me. I guess she's the only one. Maybe it would be easier for me if she did. For me, for her, for everybody…

There was something else. Someone else was with my mother and sister, I heard Dana talking to him. I knew who it was even though I never met him. He was a family too. He was my sister's lover and my brother.

It sounds incestuous, I know, but it's not really if you take into account that I'm only their half-brother. It's just hard to think of Dana as merely a half-sister or of him as anything but a stranger. Neither one of them knows…

I didn't know either, until my father died. I wish my mother never told me, but she thought I had a right to know. My father knew, and he forgave her a long time ago, but my siblings were kept in darkness. Mom said it was up to me whether we'll tell them or not. It was a choice I couldn't make. It was a situation I couldn't handle. I fell apart and it killed my marriage. I even lost the visitation rights for my children. My heart breaks every time I think about my Maggie or Charlie Junior, which is why I don't allow myself to remember them anymore.

It's not just the fact that my mother cheated on my father. I could live that. But did she have to cheat on him with Cancerman? He was an evil man, as I learned later from Dana. I started to believe myself to be evil, too. I seemed to destroy everything I touch, just like him.

One day I just left, moved, disappeared. I kept in touch with my family, but I never visited. It didn't seem to bother anyone but mom, but not even she insisted much on my return. With me out of picture, she was allowed to see my children again, her grandchildren.

After my next move, I left her with no new contact information. I just vanished. It was for the best. I was a drunken looser, obsessed with gambling and having unprotected sex, which probably resulted in more children carrying that bastard's genes. I never forgot my family. I kept in touch with Skinner and he informed me of everything I needed to know: death of my niece, birth of my nephew… At the same time, I made him promise never to tell them anything about me. One day, I thought, when I get hold of myself, when I get my life back in order, I will come back to them as the same old Charlie that they knew and loved, but not like this. Nobody needed this Charlie. The only problem was, he wasn't willing to leave me. He kept winning. I kept sinking.

It was Skinner who called me to tell me that my mother is dying, that she was asking for me. Skinner and I go back a long way. He was my ex-wife's father's best friend, back in the day when we were still dating. He was always at her house, and despite the age difference we became good friends. When he told me that FBI is looking to recruit more doctors, I suggested my sister, knowing that she wasn't happy with her choice of career.

"Are you sure about this?" Skinner asked me: "It's a dangerous job."

"My sister is a tough girl," I answered: "I'm sure she can make a difference."

"All right then," Skinner agreed: "If she accepts, I'll make sure that she ends up under my supervision, so that I can keep an eye on her and insure her safety."

"Just don't tell her that you know me. She won't accept if she finds out that it was her baby brother's idea."

"It's a deal!" Skinner laughed.

Skinner is man of his word. He never told her.

I kept walking, lost in thoughts, until I reached my apartment building. I sighed heavily, as I walked inside for the last time. I couldn't stay, it wasn't safe, not after I made that call. Italy itself wasn't safe anymore, and I debated which country to go to next.

He found me sitting at the kitchen table, with my head in my hands and packed bags on the floor next to me. I was extremely grateful for his timely arrival. If he came just a few minutes later, the bottle in front of me might not still be unopened and I struggled hard to keep it that way. He didn't need to see me drunk. I couldn't do this, not to him, the only person who made my life bearable. He was my strength, my only reason for living. I left my country to keep him safe and I wouldn't hesitate to kill for him if I had to.

"What's happening, uncle?" he asked me worriedly.

"I'm sorry William," I said, knowing that it will break his heart to leave this country, his school, his girlfriend… "We have to move again."


	2. William

"I'm not going," William said.

"William," I sighed, but I wasn't able to continue. He wasn't a little child anymore, he wanted answers now but I still wasn't allowed to give him any.

"Who are we running from? Why? Where are my parents?" he demanded.

If it was up to me, I wouldn't keep secrets from him, but Skinner insisted on it, believing the truth would put him in greater danger. My sister came to him when she had no other choice but to put her baby up for adoption and he promised her completely anonymous and safe process.

The problem is, complete anonymity is never truly possible. Skinner still knew how to find him and he saved him when his adoptive parents were discovered and killed. He couldn't save them as well, since they refused to give the kid up when they learned about the danger. After that, William changed a few foster homes and finally got adopted again. He was soon found again and Skinner realized that he will never be safe in a normal home with regular people. He turned to me for help.

"Why don't you give him back to my sister and her partner?" I asked him.

"I don't know how to find them," Skinner said. At the time, my siblings were on the run themselves. William was only five years old and I had never even met him. I didn't want him on my back, but I couldn't turn my back on him either. After all, he was a family. Besides, Skinner was the only friend I had left and he never asked anything from me before. I owed it to him as much as I owed it to my family, even though accepting that responsibility meant alienating myself from my family even further, if that was possible.

"What makes you think I can keep him safe?" I asked Skinner.

"I will help you."

"Didn't you say I won't be allowed to have contact with anybody from my past?"

"Yes, it's a necessary step to ensure your safety. But you can't do this alone. You don't have skills and resources for that. You need me, Scully. I can minimize the risk if I am the only person who will know how to find you."

I couldn't see my own kids and I agreed to take my sister's child, who she wasn't allowed to see as well. What a mess! I used to have a normal family. Or rather, my family was normal before I came to be. I brought the curse. My mother's infidelity might have preceded it, but my existence cemented it, not allowing the betrayal to ever be forgotten.

His son.

Charles G.B. Spender.

Also known as Cancer Man or Cigarette Smoking Man.

It wasn't just a fling. My mother loved him. She named me after him, for God's sake! Now she's dead and I'll never know why. I'll never know what she saw in him.

Not that I ever want to...

Fox William Mulder. Another illegitimate son of the same shadowy man, whose own illegitimate son I agreed to raise as my own. God must have a dark sense of humor, at least when it comes to my life.

Skinner sent me alone to get William, thinking it would be less suspicious. I watched his adoptive mother scream as I took him from her arms. The father was pale as a ghost as he held her and reminded her that they are doing it to protect him. I still have nightmares about that day, but it's not always that woman in the role of a mother, sometimes she gets replaced with my sister, just as desperate, just as broken, giving away her only child, never to see him again.

William doesn't remember my sister, though. When he asks about his parents he's asking about those people. He cried after them for months.

"You know I can't tell you that," I told him, tired of his perfectly reasonable and validate questions, tired of keeping secrets from him, tired of living on the run and all in all tired as hell of life.

"I don't know a shit, uncle!" he snapped: "I don't even know if you are really my uncle! I'm not going anywhere with you! If you try to take me I'll go to the police!"

I buried my head in my hands, not trusting myself to speak. It could wait until tomorrow. I'll figure out how to deal with him tomorrow. I just spoke to his mother, while my own mother died. I knew I'll never see her again, but I also knew she was out there, somewhere. Now, she wasn't anymore...

"Don't hate me William, not today," I quietly begged after he retreated to his room.


	3. Margaret

"Charlie," I tried to tell them: "Call Charlie."

I wanted to get my coin but I was too weak to reach it, at the same time my speech was too incoherent to ask them to do it for me. All I managed to say was his name.

Charlie.

"Take it easy Mrs. Scully," the nurse told me: "We found your daughter. She's on the way."

I gave up and closed my eyes. If Dana is coming it means it's too late. I will never get a chance to call him, never get a chance to say goodbye.

Charlie.

It was so long ago, but I remember every detail as if it was yesterday. The way he smelled, the forbidden scent of cigarette smoke mixed with his manly essence. His fingers brushing my hair, lightly as a butterfly touch. His piercing gaze that penetrates right through the soul, a lonely soul of a navy wife.

Oh Charlie.

"He found out," I whispered, pleading to be forgiven: "He knows."

"Come with me, Margaret," he said, unfazed. He never feared a soul and my husband's wrath didn't concern him: "Leave him."

"I can't. Charlie, you know I can't," I pleaded again: "My children..." And I couldn't speak any more, my voice broke, my heart sunk at the thought of leaving my precious babies.

He leaned forward and kissed me, claiming my mouth with his tongue. I didn't object, not that I could even if I wanted to, since this man possessed me completely, body and soul. My hands wrapped themselves around his neck by their own account, not bothering to consult with the brain first. He was my master, my salvation, my sin.

Oh William, how I wish it was you, how I wish your hands could shake my world like this, how I wish my body would explode at your touch instead of his. My dear husband, you are my candle in the dark, but he is a falling star, a wish come true, but wish that was never allowed to be formulated, never allowed to exist and yet it did, stubbornly and uncontrollably, eating me from the inside as well as from outside.

Oh William, I never stood a chance! Your simple, loyal, loving wife never knew what hit her, as no one ever warned her how deep and dangerous the lake of lust can be, her who never learned how to swim. You were my first and you will be my last, as we vowed to each other in the house of God. Forgive me for this weakness in between, if you can. Strange is God's path, but Devil's one is even stranger.

"What about my child?" Charlie asked, possessively circling his hand around my swollen belly.

"Will will raise it as his own," I assured him. He smiled sarcastically and lighted another cigarette. I coughed as he blew the smoke in my face which made him laugh.

"I could get him off your back easily," he said calmly: "I watched presidents die."

His words gave me goose bumps and filled me with fear that was still, even through his indirect treats to my children's father, mixed with pleasure.

"Please don't hurt him," I begged and he covered my mouth with his once again, blowing the smoke directly to my throat this time. It gave me tears but I managed to suppress the cough this time.

"I thought you would make a difference," he whispered: "I thought I could turn my life around with you by my side. Sometimes... Sometimes I doubt if I'm doing the right thing. But in the end it's all I have left. In the end my path is meant to be walked alone."

"I'm sorry," I said, gently stroking his cheek.

"Please don't hurt him," I repeated as tears started to roll down my face. I wanted to love him, I wanted to be his salvation and if not for the kids I would leave everything behind, I would break the sacred vows of marriage and cement my path to hell for all eternity. That was his power.

"As long as he takes a good care of my son, he's safe," Charlie promised me, giving me another smile, a smile that successfully hid all the disappointment and abandonment I saw in his eyes just a second ago. He wouldn't give me the satisfaction of witnessing his defeat. Failure and defeat were the words he refused to recognize.

"How do you know it's a boy?" I asked.

"It's always a boy," he smiled sarcastically, as if he wanted to show me that I don't matter, that I'm just another woman he's leaving behind, our baby being just one of the many as well.

It didn't foul me.

"Maybe we'll meet again," I said wishfully, as if circumstances like that could just present themselves, as if we could just start all over but as friends the next time.

"Maybe," he nodded: "But you better wish that we don't!"

That's when he gave me the coin.

"To call me," he said: "In case you change your mind. Any time, day or night."

I never did. I always wanted to. I kept the coin as a souvenir of a love that was never meant to be, but never faded, not from my side at least.

If only I could reach it now, if only I could hold it in my hand for the last time. If only I could make that call that I swore never to...

Before Dana comes...

She will never know. I'm taking my passion to my grave. My secret is safe and that's my only comfort in a death that's approaching at a growing speed.

I know William will not wait for me at the other end. I will wait there for Charlie instead.

My son is named Charlie, too.

My son is named William, too.


	4. Scully

(William's POV)

"My uncle wants to take me away," I whispered into my phone: "But I won't let him. I won't leave you."

"But why is he doing it?" Bella insisted. I couldn't give her the answer. I didn't have one.

"I don't know," I sighed: "But I won't let him."

I didn't know what else to say. After a few moments of dead silence we started talking about usual, normal stuff: school, friends, parties and sex (which she still wasn't sure about doing before her 16th birthday, and I still wasn't sure about being able to wait that long). We must have talked for at least an hour, and would have continued for at least as much, if it wasn't for the crash, a breaking glass, the sound that changed my life.

"It's late, I'd better go," I quickly said to my girlfriend, feeling bad for lying to her, but I couldn't find the words to explain what I felt. It was like million voices suddenly spoke in my head, in million languages and million different words, but it only lasted for a moment, so briefly that I barely registered it. But I did and it couldn't be unheard.

"Ok, Will, good night," Bella yawned: "And don't worry about your uncle, he can't force you to do anything you don't want to. I love you."

Something told me those were the last words I would ever hear from her, but I refused to believe it. I tossed my phone on the bed and rushed to the kitchen. My uncle was sitting on the floor, with an empty glass in his hand and broken glass all around him.

"What happened?" I asked him.

"I'm drunk, William," he answered calmly: "I dropped the bottle."

"But you don't drink," I was confused.

"I'm an alcoholic," he said simply.

"No you're not," I countered: "I've never seen you drink before."

"I was in remission. For years, maybe, but it doesn't matter. Once an alcoholic, always alcoholic. You can't change who you are. Not really. Not completely."

"I don't understand…"

"You are in danger, William. If you refuse to leave, I can't force you. Not anymore. And if we don't leave, they'll find you and then it's all over."

"Who will find me?" I was getting scared. Not for my life, but for my uncle's mental health.

"I don't know who, but they will. Only I can protect you. None of your mothers ever could…"

"My mothers?" As in… plural? Now I was really worried for his sanity. He's my only family and I love him, but I was beginning to question if he's really my uncle at all, or maybe just some lunatic who once kidnapped me from my real family and raised me as his own.

"What is going on?!" I yelled when he didn't respond: "Who are you? You're not my real uncle, are you?"

"Oh but I am," he shrugged: "I'm your mother's brother, and I'm your father's brother. It doesn't get any more real than that."

"But that is not even possible!" I objected.

"It is," he shrugged again: "It is, when both of their mothers cheated with the same man."

"Stop it! You are not making any sense!" I cried out: "You need help, uncle. Let me call an ambulance. Please!"

"I told you, you are not ready to hear the truth. You can't say I didn't warn you."

"It's not the truth!" I insisted, but the word started to dance in my head, making me dizzy.

The truth… The truth... Truth... Truth... Truth...

A sharp, unbelievably strong pain suddenly burst in my head, so devastating that it instantly pushed me onto my knees. I clutched the sides of my head and moaned in pain, while the word still echoed all around me: The truth... The Truth... Truth... Truth... Truth...

Then it was gone, everything was gone: the word, the pain, even uncle and the kitchen! I was someplace else, someTIME else! It looked like a hospital corridor. There was a man holding a woman, talking to her.

"The truth will save you, Scully," he said: "I think it will save both of us."

With that the strange couple vanished and uncle came back.

"William!" he shook me: "Are you okay?"

I reached to touch his face, to make sure he is real. He looked just as terrified as I felt.

"Who is Scully?" I asked him. I watched color drain from his face, as if he was looking at the ghost.

"How…" he whispered, so quietly as if the mere mention of that foreign name could kill us both: "Where did you hear that?"

"I don't know," I shrugged, getting up. I was starting to feel normal again, if there still existed such a thing as normalcy for me. If it ever existed at all…

"William, this is important," uncle insisted: "You have to tell me everything you know."

"Like you are always telling me?" I challenged him.

"You don't understand…" he started, but I dismissed him with my hand and turned to go to my room.

"No, I guess I don't," I said, tired of arguing. I wanted to call Bella and tell her what happened. She would believe me, and even if she didn't she would somehow be able to convince me I made it all up and it never really happened.

Not unexpectedly, uncle's hand grabbed mine to stop me.

"Okay," he said: "I'll tell you."

"Forget it," I shrugged him off of me: "I don't care anymore. You do what you want, but leave me alone!"

For a moment I thought he is letting me go, and I wasn't sure if I felt relieved or disappointed. Then he spoke, deadly serious.

"It's you."

"What?" I turned around to look at him, confused once again.

"You are Scully," he nodded: "And so am I."

"That's our name?" I was intrigued. My first name was always William, but my last name changed with every country we moved to. Uncle didn't only change his last name, but his first name as well. This time he was Luigi, but he never told me his real name. He was always simply 'uncle' to me and I just assumed that even he himself doesn't remember his real name.

"Your mother is Dana Scully, my youngest sister. Half-sister, to be precise. I'm not sure why, but she couldn't raise you, so she put you up for adoption. Van de Kamps, I believe, were your next parents. They were killed because of you, but you survived. You had been placed in foster care afterwards, until Rob and Laura Petrie adopted you. I know you still remember them, but they were not your biological parents. They had to give you up as well, since you weren't safe in a regular family. You needed someone with low profile, who doesn't have anything left to lose, and who is willing to permanently disappear to keep you safe. It's the hardest job I ever took, William."

"Why am I in so much danger? From who?" I asked him. It all sounded insane, but for some reason I felt it made a perfect sense.

"I don't know," he sighed: "It's some kind of a global conspiracy that I can't even begin to understand. I'm a simple man, William. This is beyond my comprehension. But I do know my older sister got killed because of it. Your father's sister as well. And… your sister."

"I had a sister?"

"Well, it was half-sister, I assume. They were all half-sisters to us. Technically. But there was nothing 'half' about them. We were a real family. And you and I – we are a real family as well."

"Bella is my family, too," I whispered: "If I go with you, I want her to come with us."

"You would be putting her in a great danger."

"Then I'm not going!"

"Do you want her watch you die? Do you want her being killed with you? I know this is incredibly hard, but we don't have a choice."

"Livian…" I suddenly remembered, more pieces falling in place.

"Yes. That's why I left her."

"So you really loved her?"

"I still really love her. I will always love her. I would give anything to be with her, anything but your life…"

"This isn't fair!"

"No, it isn't. I chose this life because you needed me and there was no one else to keep you safe. But you… You didn't have a choice."

"And I still don't," I realized. I was on the verge of tears, but I didn't let them come. There was no time for crying. No use, either. In just a few minutes I learned the true meaning of sacrifice. I grew up in an instant, leaving my childhood behind just like that, carrying the weight heavier than the whole world on my shoulders, the knowledge that my existence brought only pain and suffering to anybody who ever loved me, and that Bella wouldn't be an exception.

She was almost my first. And now she will spend the rest of her life wondering why I left, without even saying goodbye.

And I will die a virgin.

"I'm sorry William," uncle sighed heavily: "I didn't want you to find out like this. But I guess you're right, I couldn't have kept it from you for much longer. I wish there was another way, I really do."

"I know," I nodded: "It's not your fault. But where will we go?"

"I don't know yet."

"I do," I said, surprising both of us. He opened his mouth to protest, but no words came out. He just stared at me, probably seeing the change in me that I felt since his bottle broke.

"Where?" he finally asked.

"Bosnia," I answered firmly. I had no idea why I said that or how I knew it was the place to go.

I just knew.


	5. Skinner

(Skinner's POV)

One cryptic e-mail, one brand-new-but-soon-to-be-recycled-untraceable phone and one long car drive to isolated place – twice in just a few days! We took all the precaution we could manage, but we couldn't afford to talk this often. Once in a few years was maximum I was comfortable with, but I couldn't leave him without the answer. Something could have happened to William… No! He was safe. He had to be.

When Agent Scully found out she was pregnant, I was the first person she told, right after I lost her child's father. She never said who the father was and I never asked, but I knew from the start. There was only one man, a man who got abducted in front of my eyes when my sole mission was to keep him safe.

She didn't blame me, which made me feel worse. I made it my priority to get him back to her.

When I got him back I buried him, and when that didn't kill him I tried to do it myself, anything to keep that baby safe.

The first time I saw William he was sleeping and Scully was just in between crying sessions, with her eyes red and tired, wiped sloppily for my behalf, as she led me to the nursery.

"He's beautiful, Dana," I whispered, since that's what you're supposed to say to a new parent.

"Mulder says he looks like you," Dana smiled sadly, with the same mixture of joy and pain in her voice as when she told me she was pregnant.

"I hope not," I chuckled, but there was the same lack of lightness in my voice as in hers. I noticed her wearing a man's shirt. I didn't have to ask who it belonged to, just as I didn't have to ask whose fish swam in the aquarium in her living room, or whose bags lied all over the floor.

"Where is he, Dana?" _That_ I had to ask.

"He's just gone," she shrugged, not looking at me.

"We can fix this, Scully," I tried to assure her. And if I couldn't fix it, I would go down with Mulder, with Dana, with their baby. I wanted her to know that.

"We have to," she whispered, bringing her hand to her mouth. One tear escaped from her eye, but she didn't bother to wipe it. We were way past the professionalism and stoicism between us. I approached her and slowly run my hand through her hair, letting her come to me and holding her as her body shook in my arms.

William Walter Scully. I don't know why she named him like that, except that Mulder probably placed a veto on Fox as a middle name. I was honored, of course, but at the same time terrified for that child's future. We all were. Mulder refused to give him his last name or even to be listed as his father, leaving Scully the full control over the baby's life. If he wasn't legally the son of a fugitive, William might have had a chance of a normal childhood, and if that failed Dana had free hands to look for alternatives, being his only legal guardian.

And that's exactly what she did.

"There's no other way," she told me: "He will never be safe with me. Just like Mulder wasn't."

"There's got to be another way!" I objected, terrified of losing this child, terrified of what it would do to my friend and her lover, if he ever came back.

"Don't make this harder," she begged me.

"Dana…"

"Don't," she repeated: "I just want him to be safe. I _need_ him to be safe. If any of us is going to make it, it has to be him. If you won't… If you can't… I need to know now. Walter… You are the only one I can trust with this."

"I'll do it, you know I will," I assured her: "But once it's done, there will be no going back. You need to understand that."

"I understand," she whispered.

"Dana, this is serious," I wanted to clarify: "Are you sure? Are you absolutely sure about doing this?"

She looked so small and vulnerable. She was still holding William and he played with her necklace, uninterested in our discussion about his future. Dana kissed his forehead and whispered something to him, then she reached to the back of her neck, presumably to unclasp her necklace and give it to William. But her hand never touched her neck, and she brought it back down. It wasn't safe for William to keep anything from his parents, not even a simple necklace.

She kissed him again, before handing him to me.

"I can never know where he is. No one can," she said and I nodded.

"And don't ask me if I'm sure," she added: "How could I ever be sure? I will never forgive myself for giving him up. This day will hunt me for the rest of my life. I already hate myself for doing it. But, regardless of my feelings, he deserves a chance."

I didn't say anything, but she didn't expect me to. She turned around, heading for the door, and just before she walked out she spoke again, without turning back to me: "If I can only ask one more thing from you, Walter… Don't ever mention this again."

With that she left and William started to cry. I held him, not knowing what to do but cry with him.

"Scully," I said on the phone: "Where are you?"

"On the train," he answered: "We are leaving Italy."

"Why? What happened? Is William…"

"William is fine. Considering he just had to leave all his life behind. Again."

"Charlie…What are you doing?"

"Mom died."

"I know. I'm sorry. But how…"

"I talked to her! I called Dana. I talked to her just before she died."

"No, Scully, you didn't! You couldn't! You didn't tell her…?"

"I didn't tell her a thing. I just wanted to talk to mom. I… She's dead, Skinner! My mom is dead."

"Where are you going?" I demanded. I couldn't help him with his grief. Our conversations had to be short and as cold as it sounds we couldn't afford to waste time on something that we couldn't change.

"Bosnia," he sighed.

"Bosnia?" I asked.

"Yes. That's what William wants. And I couldn't care less. Bosnia is fine, isn't it?"

"Yeah… I suppose it is. Just keep a low profile, take a local name…"

"Skinner, how many times have we done this?" he was impatient: "I know the drill."

"I know you do," I agreed: "Why did you request contact from me? There's something else, isn't it?"

"It's William," he sighed: "He knows something."

"What?"

"He knows we are Scully. He asked me and I told him. He had some pains and a… vision or something. He heard a man's voice. Then he requested we go to Bosnia as if… as if he knew exactly why and where. He claims he doesn't, but he still insists… I don't know what's going on, Walter, and it scares me."

"I don't know what to tell you," I sighed, worriedly: "It's probably just a coincidence. He's not supposed to still have…"

"Have what?"

"Some… abilities."

"What abilities? What are you talking about?"

"Listen, Scully, I don't know. There are many mysteries about his conception and he was probably experimented on before he was born. He might be… different, but I don't know in which ways. Just keep an eye on him. How is he doing?"

"He's quiet. I think he misses his girlfriend but he doesn't want to talk about it. I'm worried about him, though. It was easy to take him from one country to another when he had nothing to lose, but this time… He really cares about this girl… And I had to tell him something about his history in order to convince him to leave."

"What did you tell him?" I was alarmed.

"Not much. I don't know much myself, do I? I told him about my family, about attempts on his life… I think it's too much for him right now, but sooner or later he will want to know more. I can't keep secrets from him for much longer."

"No, I guess you can't," I smiled. No child of Agents Mulder and Scully would settle for secrets, if he was anything like his parents at all.

"How does he look like?" I asked before I could stop myself.

"Like his father," Scully answered, with a hint of a smile and pride in his voice: "With his mother's eyes."

I sat in my car for a long time after the conversation ended, thinking about a boy being raised as a fugitive. After all these years I still didn't have a better solution for him, and it still wasn't any safer than when I sent him away with his uncle. If anything, the world around him was only getting more dangerous.

I remembered visiting his father in jail, dirty, broken and defeated, but still as stubborn as ever. The guards left me alone with him, so we were able to talk freely. I wanted to figure out what I could do to help him prove his innocence, but he wasn't cooperative. He kept asking about Scully and his baby. I assured him Scully will come later, but he noticed I was avoiding the mention of his son.

"He's gone, isn't he?" he guessed, turning from me and towards the wall.

"Mulder, I'm sorry," I told him. There was no easy way to say this: "You can't see your son. Not now, not ever."

"What happened?" he demanded, turning back to me.

"He was adopted," I said as gently as I could: "He is somebody else's child now."

Mulder nodded and looked at the ceiling. It was dark, so I couldn't be sure if he was crying. I didn't know what to do. I could just stand there and watch him deal with the news in any way that he could. I couldn't have known how he felt, but I knew his son for longer than he did and I knew how I felt. It wasn't a feeling I would wish to my biggest enemy.

"He's alive?" Mulder asked.

"Yes," I confirmed: "He's alive. He's safe. But he isn't your son anymore."

Mulder nodded again, covering his face with his hands: "He was never mine…"

And that… That was also true. There was nothing else I could say to him. He asked me to leave him alone and I did. We never mentioned William again.


	6. Conception

(William)

"She's pregnant?" the man in the suit asked: "And you're sure about it?"

"Yes, the tests are positive," the man in the doctor's apron nodded: "Do you want me to tell her?"

"No," the man in the suit shook his head: "It's not time yet. Tell her it didn't work."

"I'll do as you say," the doctor agreed: "But she will figure it out sooner or later. You can't keep her pregnancy a secret from her."

"We can if we postpone it," the man in the suit said with a mysterious smile.

"Postpone what?" the doctor was confused.

"The fetus development, of course. We will keep it frozen, for now."

"You can't do that," the doctor objected: "It's already implanted! Already growing! I freeze fetuses every day, but that's before I place them in the womb, not afterwards!"

"We will not require your help with this."

"I don't understand."

"The technology we have allows us to control her hormones, and hormones control the pregnancy. It will simply cease to develop, until we activate it again. She will come to you then, miraculously pregnant and confused about the means it could have happened. She's a scientist, so you need to come up with a story she can believe in."

"I don't think that I can!" the doctor despaired: "She's not even sexually active, for god's sake!"

"That can be arranged," the man in the suit was unamused: "With or without her consent."

"Are you saying you would arrange for her to be raped?"

"We hope it will not come to that, but we are prepared for any possibility. Her partner will still be the father, so we'll try to arrange for it to be him. We have been arranging it for a while now, but we didn't expect them to hand out their genetic material by their own will. It fastened the process immensely, yet we are still not ready for its completion. You will be informed."

"How on Earth is any of this possible?" the doctor was still having trouble swallowing it. The man in the suit seemed annoyed, but he stayed polite.

"No," he shook his head: "On Earth it isn't."

With that he left the doctor's office, closing the door behind him. He looked around the hall as if trying to assure no one is watching him, then he completely changed his shape, turning into a pregnant woman, and casually walked away.

I awoke in tears, sobbing uncontrollably. It wasn't a dream, I knew it, it was just like my recent vision, an event that really happened, in another place, another time. Those men were talking about me. They were talking about controlling my life, from the moment of my conception. It must have been the reason why uncle took me away, to hide me from them. It must have been the reason why my biological mother gave me away. She didn't love me, but how could have she?

"William, calm down," uncle shook me gently, worriedly: "What happened?"

"I know the truth," I told him, trying to stop the tears, but they wouldn't cooperate: "I know my father raped my mother and that's how…"

"William!" uncle interrupted me, sounding angry: "It didn't happen!"

"I know it did!" I insisted: "You can stop protecting me! I'm not a child anymore! I can handle the truth!"

"Listen to me, William! I don't know how the hell you came up with this idea, but I can assure you it never happened! Your father loved… loves your mother and he would never do such a thing! Never, do you hear me?"

"How do you know?!" I yelled at him: "How can you be so sure?! How well did you know my father, anyway?"

"Keep your voice down," uncle insisted: "I don't want the whole train to hear you."

"How well did you know him?" I repeated.

"I've never met him," uncle admitted: "But I've learned more about him than I ever wanted to. He isn't a rapist, William!"

"How can you be so sure?" I insisted.

"Because I know my sister. She wouldn't have let him get away with it. More importantly, she wouldn't have stayed with him. And she wouldn't have kept you."

"But she didn't keep me, that's the whole point!"

"She tried, William. She really tried, but it was just too dangerous."

"Then why didn't she run away with me, like you did? If she really loved me, why didn't she come with us? Why am I here with you and not with her?"

"Because she can be traced," uncle sad, his face hardening so much that it scared me: "And I can't."

"Traced?" I was confused: "What do you mean by that?"

"You know how we change our phones and laptops every few months, so that no one could trace us?"

"Yes, but why can't mom do the same?"

"Because her chip is not in her computer," uncle explained: "It's in her neck."

"She has a chip in her neck?" I repeated, unsure what to think about it: "Why?"

"She was abducted," uncle sighed: "They placed a chip in her neck to control her. She will never be free. None of us will, but her especially."

"Can she take it out?" I asked, hoping against hope.

"No," uncle sighed again: "No, she can't. She would die if she did."

My tears started again, faster than before. "She loved me?" I whispered.

Uncle placed his hand around my shoulders, looking like he was about to cry as well: "She still loves you, William. More than anything. Don't ever doubt that. A parent never forgets his children."

"His?"

"Or hers," uncle sniffed and pulled me closer: "Hers. I meant hers."

Something in his voice told me he wasn't talking only about my mother, but something in my gut told me not to pursue the issue. I rested my head on his chest instead, feeling desperately alone, and cried in an embrace of a man who I desperately wanted to convince that I am not a child, that I can handle the truth, that I am strong enough…

But not today, it seemed. Growing up was beginning to look more complicated than I ever imagined.


	7. Visoko

(Charlie)

We finally arrived to a small Bosnian city called Visoko.

"This is it!" William exclaimed happily. "This is where we need to stay."

"Okay," I agreed, not caring either way. I had no idea how he came up with this place, but there was no reason to question his choice. As far as I was concerned, it was as good a location as any. Or as bad as, really. In any case, he was very fragile and tormented with guilt and nightmares, so I wasn't about to add to his burden any more than I had to.

I couldn't let him keep his girlfriend. I couldn't give any of his mothers back to him. I couldn't give him the answers that we both desperately needed.

I wanted to give him the world, but all I had to give was the lousy choice of the next hiding place! I cursed our fate silently as I retrieved our bags from the train. William was talking to a local and I went towards him, but I froze in place when I came close enough to hear their conversation.

I have never been so scared in my entire life!

I don't even know what they were talking about, since it wasn't English! My god, William was speaking fluent Bosnian right in front of my eyes!

I stood there, unable to move, until they finished what seemed like a friendly conversation, when William finally noticed me and turned his attention to me.

"What was that?" I asked him, noticing that my voice was shaking a little, despite my effort to stay calm.

"What?" William seemed confused. "I just asked him to call us a taxi and recommend a hotel for the night."

"How do you know his language?" Maybe there was an explanation for this. Maybe they teach Bosnian in Italian schools? It wouldn't be strangest thing I ever experienced.

"I don't know his language," William argued. "We spoke in English."

"Cut the crap, William!" I was getting angry. Was this a joke to him? "I heard you loud and clear! I can't say for sure that it was Bosnian, but it sure as hell wasn't English!"

"What do you mean?" William sounded worried. Worried and sincere. "I don't know any Bosnian!"

There was no point discussing it. Instead, I grabbed his arm and pulled him to some poster on the station wall.

"What does it say?" I asked him.

"Don't drink and drive," William answered. "Can we go now? You are being weird, uncle."

I pressed him harder, not allowing him to turn away from the wall.

"Now look again, William," I demanded. "Look closely and tell me this is written in English!"

William gave me an apprehensive look, then turned his attention back to the poster and back again towards me a few times.

"It's… It's Bosnian…" he finally realized. "But I don't speak any Bosnian! How can I understand this? How is this possible, uncle?"

"I don't know," I sighed, letting him go. He immediately burst into tears, terrified even more than me.

"How can I know all this?" he sobbed. "Why did I need to come here? I'm so scared, uncle! What is happening to me?"

"I don't know," I repeated. There really wasn't anything smarter for me to say. "Maybe we should go somewhere else."

"No! No, we have to stay here," he insisted. "I don't know why, but this is where I'm meant to be. Bad things will happen if I leave."

"What things?" I asked, not even alarmed. None of it sounded real anymore. I felt numb and tired, defeated. Even if this meant our death, there wasn't anything I could do to prevent it. We were both just pawns in a game that was beyond our capabilities of understanding, let alone affecting it in any way. If they, whoever they were, have gotten to his head, there wasn't any escape left for us. If, however, this was a part of some magical abilities Skinner alluded William possessed and I felt more and more compelled to believe in, maybe I should let him follow it. Maybe, for whatever reason, this was the last stop in our forcefully nomadic life.

Our taxi arrived and we placed our luggage inside. William gave the instructions to the driver – this time in genuine English. It was a short and silent ride at the end of which we were unloaded in front of a plain looking hotel. I left William with the bags while I went to get us a room. When I returned with our key, he was still standing in the exact same position, staring intently at the pyramid shaped hill…

My William, my nephew, my only family... Reduced to a stranger, not just to me, but to himself as well...

I desperately wanted to call Skinner, I needed his help with this, but I wasn't allowed to get in touch with him. Not for another couple of years at least...


	8. Van De Kamps

(William)

I see myself, around two years old, lying in the crib. It's dark and quiet and I am half-asleep.

It smells like home, home that I am too young to remember, but it still comes back to me in a vision. It's almost like any other vision, unknown, but with a strong sense of truth. Another time, another place, but just as real and reachable as here and now.

Except, this is the first time that I see myself in it.

I am Van De Kamp here. I don't remember, but I know. I just know.

My parents are close by. I can feel their presence, but I will never see them again. I didn't know then, but I do know now. I wish I could get away from there, turn it off, I don't want to know... But there is no escaping the visions. I can't control them, I can't affect them, all I can do is let them guide me to the world I never wanted to uncover.

Suddenly, there are voices I don't recognize, there is danger in the air and my sleep dissipates in an instant. I raise in my crib and cry through the gun shots. To no avail, of course. Soon, the light in my room is turned on and I have to close my eyes for a moment. I quickly open them again because everything seems even scarier when they are closed.

Two men are walking towards me, but there are now different sounds coming from the outside. I am too upset to try to identify them.

"It's FBI," one of the man says. "They are here. We have to leave."

"No," the other objects. "We didn't finish our work."

"There is no time!" the first one yells, but the second one just shakes his head. He's carrying some kind of gun and walking towards me. I scream and scream and scream, but mommy is not coming to save me. Daddy is not coming. Only strangers are coming and my short little life is rapidly falling apart.

Is this how I die? But I didn't die, did I? I am witnessing this from the future, which means I survived. Haven't I?

Am I really alive in the future, or is it some sort of illusion? Did I really live to be fifteen or… Or… What other explanation is there?

"This is bigger than you and me," the second man says. "It's more important than our lives. There is no death more meaningful than this cause and you and I both know it."

"Yes," the first man agrees, but he doesn't look nearly as determined as his colleague. "You are right, of course."

"Then hold him," the first one nods, pointing the gun at my neck.

The other man is quickly in front of me. He takes my arms in one of his hands, and pulls my head to his chest with the other. I can barely breathe in his strong embrace, but I'm still crying my lungs out.

There are now voices coming from outside. They call for surrender, but they are too late, too late, too late…

I feel the cold metal on my neck, sudden pain and then… Nothing. I'm not there anymore.

For a brief moment I am in another crib, another home. It's as much of a home as this one, but it's not the same. I am even younger there. My mother is crying beside me, her arms and forehead resting on my crib, shaking. My first mother…

And I'm back. Back in the second home, but without second mother. It's not her that's lifting me, it's not her that's shaking me, it's not her calling my name… I open my eyes to see a bald man with glasses standing over me.

"William!" he cries out. "You are alive!"

I don't cry anymore. My neck is sore, but it hardly matters. I feel safe with this man and even though I don't remember him I feel that he knows me, he'll protect me.

"Sir?" another stranger is walking into my room.

"He's okay," the man who's holding me responds, pressing me to his chest and sighing from relief. "He's alive. My god, he's alive!"

I can feel his heart beating rapidly against my cheek and his warm breath caressing my hair. I feel a little dizzy and a lot confused, but most of all safe in this man's embrace. His smell talks to me in ways words never could and I know he won't let anything bad happen to me.

I grab his shirt, holding onto him for dear life.

"It's okay, William," he soothes me. "It's okay. I've got you. It's okay…"

Then his hand travels to my neck and briefly touches it, retrieving fast as if it got burned or stung. He quickly brings it up to examine it and it's really close to my face now. I can see the blood on his fingers, but I don't know if it's his blood or mine. The other hand tightens around me and he is now carrying me outside. Out of my room, out of my house, never to see any of it again.

There are people and cars outside, it's dark but busy night. Dogs are barking from all around. It feels like a fairy tale but without happy ending.

My guardian drops me at the ambulance car, carefully forcing me to let go of him. The loss of his touch is causing me to cry again.

"It's okay," he repeats, as if anything is okay at all, as if I haven't just lost my home and my family, as if anything will be okay ever again…

Two medics take me from him and he quickly walks away. I never see him again.

For a few years, which is insanely long time for a toddler, there will be nobody in my life but strangers…


	9. Melissa

(Charlie)

Dear Missy,

I'm turning to you because I don't have anybody else to talk to. I'm lonely, sis, and I'm scared, as scared as I ever was.

I don't know what to do anymore with our nephew. William. You'd like him. He looks a little bit like Bill, and a lot like his father. He is very stubborn, just like you were, and just as mysterious.

A few days ago he was just a kid, a normal teenager, preoccupied with school and dating. His girlfriend was very cute and smart girl, she reminded me of my Maggie. Well, every girl reminds me of my daughter. I don't know where she is, what she looks like, what her dreams and fears are… Does she hate me? Does she even remember me?

I see my Junior in William. You know, William still misses his adoptive parents, even though he barely remembers them. Do I dare to hope that my son misses his dad like that? I sure as hell miss him, sis!

It's been years since Skinner had any news about my family, and then last week he called to tell me that our mother was dying. She's dead already. But you probably know that, right? You are together now, aren't you? I need to believe that you are, I need to believe that there is a better world than this one and that I will manage to redeem myself enough to be allowed to see you again.

I heard her, Missy! I talked to Dana! She was cold and distant, but I can't blame her. If only she knew… But she can't know, no one can! It was a mistake to call her, and now I'm paying for that mistake. It costed William his girlfriend, we had to disappear again and now things got complicated. So complicated.

I am following him now. It used to be the other way around, but things changed overnight. He took us to this place that looks normal, but it isn't. Some guy claimed to have found pyramids here and he's digging them up. William joined his team and he's spending most of his time digging through some tunnels that are supposed to lead to the center of the main pyramid. It looks just like a hill to me, but it's supposed to be very old so it's completely covered with vegetation. There are even houses on it and people who live in them usually reach a very old age.

As for the tunnels, the story sounds bizarre here. You'd probably like it though, you were always into energies and crystals, stuff like that. People come from all over the world to visit those tunnels, believing they have healing power. There are some huge magic stones inside on which they meditate and a lake with drinkable, and presumably positively energized water.

But the story of their origins… My god! They were built by one civilization, for no known reason. Then they were closed with dry walls and filled up with dirt and sand by another, much later civilization. Again, the reason is unknown. This organization, Bosnian Pyramid Foundation, is now simply taking the filling material outside, and the length and number of discovered tunnels is rapidly increasing. No one really knows anything about their purpose, but there seems to be infinite amount of theories.

I don't know, Missy, it's more of your thing. I haven't been inside, but William is spending so much time there and it worries me. Whatever is going on with this place, it's affecting him greatly. He started to have visions and nightmares even before we got here, but now they've intensified. He talks about things that he's not supposed to know, some of that shit is true, but some is outright insane. Now he often complains about the pain in his neck, and when I think about it… I don't want to think about it, because if that's the case we are both doomed. You saw Dana's chip, didn't you? Wasn't it even the reason why you got killed?

What if… What if William has it too? What if they left us to think we are doing a good job hiding all these years, but now they are coming to get us and there's nothing we can do about it? I've successfully avoided traveling by planes all these years, but the few times when it was necessary for us to fly, we had a bit of trouble with passing through the metal detector. It always went on on William, but they would just check him, find nothing and let him go. I easily assumed it was a mistake of the machine, but what if it wasn't? How did I never see the pattern before?

I can't fail him, Missy! I've failed you and everybody else, I can't let that happen with William! I can't! I won't! But what can I do? This is all so much bigger than me and beyond my capabilities of understanding. How do I protect my boy?

Oh, Missy, how I wish you were here! You would know what to do, or at least what to say. You always saw the bigger picture, the world behind the doors that are closed to the rest of us. You believed everything happened for a reason. Yet, you are dead for no reason at all. Were you wrong all along? Or am I missing something here?

William is special, Missy. So were you. Could you reach him, somehow? If anybody could communicate from the other side, I believe it would be you. If anybody could receive your message, I believe it would be our nephew.

When my hamster died, you convinced me you could talk to him for me. We made a circle to contact the hamster heaven. I still admire you for managing to convince Bill and Dana to participate! They were always so scientific and down to earth, but you, you had a way of making people do whatever you wanted them to do, without them even realizing that they are playing right to you hand.

My hamster said that haven is made of carrots and he was happy there. I was so excited. I wanted to get in touch with Bill's dog and Dana's rabbit, but they refused. You said it's not possible to contact a dead pet without its owner's approval and I believed you. It was enough to know that my hamster was at peace, and it gave me comfort for years to come. Even when I grew up and realized it was just a trick to console a baby brother, that sense of peace didn't leave me. You never admitted it being anything but genuine experience, though, even when there was no one left to believe you.

I believe you now, sis. I believe you again. Faith is usually the last thing people would give up, since without faith there's not much hope left. I am not any different. I went to the churches, and even to synagogues. I tried praying, but it left me feeling empty and defeated. My faith wasn't there, Missy. My faith is in you.

Help us, Missy, I'm begging you! I've reached the end and I have no one else to turn to.


	10. Mom

(William)

"Mom?" I whispered. "Is that you?"

I didn't dare to talk any louder, afraid it might end this dream and take her away from me. Again.

It was different this time. This wasn't past, this was happening now. It was as real as any other vision I had, except that I was in it. Not as a toddler, not as a fetus, not as a thought or potential, but me as I am right now, in the present.

She was real as well. We weren't in the same place, but we were in the same time, connected by a dream or force unknown to me, but that time was now, for both of us.

"William?" she shook her head, looking at me with a mixture of desperate hope and uncertainty. "My baby… All grown up… Look at you!"

"Yeah," I smiled, not knowing what else to say. There were so many things I wanted to tell her, so many questions I wanted to ask, but I just stood there, unable to start.

"William, you're shaking," she said worriedly, approaching me carefully. "Are you sick?"

"No," I shook my head. "I'm fine."

"Are you?" she asked again and I just nodded.

"Don't cry," she practically begged, reaching to my cheek to wipe the tears that I wasn't aware were falling, but she pulled her hand away before it touched me, as if she, too, felt that physical touch would end this unexplainable connection between us.

"If you are fine, does it mean I did the right thing?" she asked uncertainly, wiping her own tears instead of mine.

"What thing?" I was confused.

"Giving you up," she clarified through sobs, looking at me expectantly as if I could give her a resolution she searched for.

"I don't know," I admitted. "I just… miss you."

She nodded, looking at me with intense adoration, like I was the most loveable being in the whole universe. Not even Bella looked at me like that. "Where are you… son?"

"Bosnia," I shrugged.

She chuckled. Or sobbed. I couldn't identify her expression. It was as if she was falling apart. I didn't dare to ask why.

"Europe?" she guessed and I nodded. She nodded as well. "Good. I'm glad. US is not a safe place at the moment."

"Are you safe?" I asked. She shook her head, but she didn't look afraid, only tired. Resigned.

"What about dad?" I wondered. The questions were finally rolling and I wanted to know, I needed to know everything, everything, everything. "Where is he?"

"I'm sorry, William," she sighed, painfully. "He's dead. It happened two days ago. People are dying… all over the States. I'm glad… So glad you're not here."

"Are you… dying?" I managed to ask. I had to know. It may have been my only chance to know. At any moment I would wake up, or she would wake up, and we'd probably never see each other again.

"I sure hope so," she smiled sadly. "I have nothing left to live for."

"Don't say that!" I argued. "You have me!"

"No, I don't," she sighed. "I gave you away…"

"But I'm here now!" I insisted.

"No," she disagreed. "You are in Serbia."

"Bosnia," I corrected her.

"Bosnia," she smiled. "For how long? Since you were taken from me?"

"No," I tried to calculate fast in my head. "Only two months. Or three… Before that I lived in Italy. And before that-"

"You aren't here," she cut me off, sounding as if she was talking to herself rather than to me. "This isn't real. It's just a dream."

"I'm real, mom," I tried to assure her. "Maybe it's a dream, but I'm having it as well. This is my dream, too. It's the real me."

"I know that," she smiled. "A mother always recognizes her children."

"Do you have… other children?"

"No. They don't let you adopt another when you give up the first one."

"I'm sorry," I apologized.

"It wasn't your fault," she said gently. "You didn't do anything wrong. You were perfect, you _are_ perfect. But we had to protect you."

"From what?"

"I don't know, son," she sighed heavily. "It was… classified."

"I don't know either," I said regretfully.

"It doesn't matter," she assured me. "You are safe. That's all that matters. That's all I needed to know. Now I can die in peace."

"No!" I protested. "I don't want you to die!"

"It's ok, William," she smiled.

"No, it's not!" I disagreed. "You can't die! You are my mother!"

"I didn't give birth to you," she reminded me. As if that mattered at all!

"I don't care!" I yelled at this point. "You are my mom!"

"I love you, William," she smiled and started to fade away.

"No! Don't wake up! Stay with me! Mom! I need you! Don't wake up!"

"I'm not waking up, darling. You are," her smile widened and faded at the same time, until there was only her voice left, now singing a lullaby.

"No!" I yelled and cried my lungs out, while reaching forward to grab her and keep her with me. I buried my face in her chest, smelling her fading scent and begging her to stay, but it was all for nothing. She was gone. I was holding a pillow. Nothing else.

It took uncle forever to calm me down.


	11. The Apocalypse

(Charlie)

With each passing day I was more and more worried about William. He kept spending more and more time digging the damn tunnels. Nothing else mattered to him, to such extent that he barely ate or slept at all.

But when he did sleep it made things worse. His nightmares intensified, and there was hardly a day that he wouldn't wake up screaming. When that happened it was next to impossible to calm him down. I was losing sleep as well.

There were still days, good days, when he'd allow me to hold him and cried in my arms like a baby, shaking vehemently and begging me to tell him what's going on. I didn't know, and nothing I tried helped him at all.

Yes, those were good days. On bad ones, he didn't cry, smile, or show any emotion at all. If he talked, it was only about pyramids and his destiny. He looked like a robot, or more like a ghost. A ghost robot, perhaps. Something completely out of this this world that is not supposed to exist, but it does, defying all logic and reason.

He talked about his destiny, but he couldn't tell me what it was. He claimed that it wasn't important and that he didn't need to know, all he had to do to fulfill it was to dig up the tunnels and reach the pyramid from the underground because… Because they were coming, they were close… They needed something… Fuel… Energy… People… And he was partly one of them…

My life was starting to resemble a science-fiction movie, but a really bad one. And it was only getting worse, so much worse in fact, that William's problems suddenly seemed tiny and irrelevant.

People in America started rapidly dying. Something was going on in my homeland, but no one was able to figure out what. There was no cure, no help, no hope and by all estimation it was only the matter or weeks before it spreads through the rest of the world. Europe still wasn't affected, but the whole continent was in state of panic.

"Nothing can stop me now," William smiled one day while we watched the breaking news. All news qualified as breaking these days.

"What are you talking about?" I was almost scared to ask, but more scared of not asking.

"They are coming," he smiled again. "Don't worry, uncle, it won't be long. You'll be at peace soon."

This time I didn't dare to ask. This wasn't my nephew, this was a stranger who didn't seem to have friendly motives. A part of me wanted to grab him and run away from this city, form his tunnels and the unexplainable attraction of pyramid hills, but another part of me was afraid of his increasing strength and determination, afraid of being alone with him…

He wouldn't let me check his neck again. He often wouldn't even let me touch him.

"Don't worry, uncle," he soothed me. "When they come, I will protect you."

"How?" I stared at him, not sure that I wanted to hear the answer.

"You won't get sick," he smiled, but coldly. "If you drink my blood."

"Your blood?!" I was terrified. He wasn't joking.

"He thinks about me, you know?" he changed the subject abruptly.

"Who?" I wasn't keeping up well with his train of thoughts.

"Him," he shrugged, as if he himself wasn't sure who he was talking about. "He thinks about normal stuff, like building rockets and watching movies. But I…" he smiled wickedly. "I just fly away from him. To them. I am one of them."

"Listen to me, William," I tried to grab his arm, but he pulled it away, giving me a warning look. "Who are 'them' that you keep referring to? What did they do to you? What do they want?"

William waved his hand distractedly, probably in an effort to show me that my concerns don't matter to him. "She thinks about me too."

"Who, William?!"

"A scientist with a cross. She wants me to be like her, but I'm not. She wants to take me to school and hold my hand, but when I show her my true face, she's afraid. She doesn't want to see it."

"Who is she, William?" I asked firmly.

"She wasn't supposed to live. She survived, but she wasn't supposed to. She gained immunity and passed it to me."

"Who is she, William?" I repeated the question, my whole body covered in goose bumps.

"She gave me up," William suddenly looked sad. "She didn't want me. He gave me up, and so did she."

"She did it to protect you," I insisted, even though I never knew the whole story. Protect him from who, from what? From this monster growing inside him? Well, sorry sis, but it didn't work. "She didn't have a choice."

"Oh, but she did," William smiled again, regaining his composure. "And she will pay for it. They want me to make her pay and I will."

"What the hell are you talking about?!"

"She's coming here, uncle. She will find us, soon, and when she does… I will terminate her."


	12. The chip

(Skinner)

I felt a cold palm on my forehead. I tried to open my eyes, even though it hurt to watch.

"How are you doing, sir?" she smiled sadly, retrieving her hand.

"I've been better," I sighed. "What about him?"

"Mulder is in a coma," Scully averted her eyes from me. "There's nothing I can do for him anymore."

"Dana," I said, not knowing whether to try and comfort her or encourage her to keep trying. She brought him back from hopeless dangers and illnesses countless times before, and he did the same for her. They've been through hell together and nothing could ever stop them, but now… Now the whole world was rapidly falling apart before our eyes. Her blood might have helped some of us, but for Mulder it wasn't enough. Neither it was for me.

There wasn't anything left to say. I was too weak to even hold her hand.

"I…" Scully spoke quietly, as if scared of her own voice. "It's all my fault…"

"No," I whispered, following it with a weak cough. Mulder may have been in a coma, but she didn't have to take his role of claiming the guilt for everything that ever went wrong. "Look through the window, Dana. The UFOs are not leaving. They are waiting like hyenas for our corpses. You can't fight them. None of us can."

"William could," she sighed painfully.

"What?" I coughed. William was just a kid. William was safe in Europe with his uncle, her brother, my friend. I wondered if Charlie tried to contact me again. He must have been worried sick, and by now my death was to be assumed. I had no way of safely getting in touch with him anymore. For all purposes I was already as good as dead to him. I could just hope that he and William were capable of continuing on their own.

"William's blood could save Mulder," Scully explained. "It could save you. And I… I gave up on him."

"You did it to protect him," I reminded her. I was alarmed by her talk about her son. Ever since she handed him to me and walked away, she never mentioned him again. This wasn't the time to scratch old wounds, not when she was the only person capable of maybe saving some of humanity.

"No," she slowly shook her head. "No, I didn't. I gave up on him and I have to face it. I have to live with it."

"Scully," I started, but she cut me off.

"No, Walter! Don't try to comfort me. I had a special baby, a miracle boy, cherished and loved and wanted and… A target to dangerous and evil people whom only Mulder and I were equipped to deal with. I was the ONLY one who had a chance of protecting him. And I gave him away to complete strangers, regular people who were not possibly aware of the danger, let alone had any means of sheltering him."

"Dana, he's fine," I said honestly. "I'm sure he's ok."

"I don't think so, sir," she said firmly and sadly at the same time. "I think he must be dead."

"He's not dead," I tried to convince her. "You have to trust me."

"It was the chip," she whispered.

"What do you mean?" I was alarmed. The chip meant cancer. Those two words were permanently stuck together in my mind. The whole America was dying, but not Scully. Scully had to live, she was the only hope for civilization as we know it. "Did the chip stop working?"

She nodded, not looking at me.

"Do you…?" I tried asking, but the cough swallowed the rest of the question. "…cancer?"

"No, it's not the cancer," she assured me, sounding actually disappointed that it wasn't the case. "It's… My actions, my thoughts… My feelings. Everything that makes me who I am."

"What are you talking about?" I was only half listening, the severe headache messing up with my ability to pay attention to her cryptic words.

"I am saying that the chip has been controlling me for years," she said. "It made me go to Skyland mountain were I was almost burned to death with no memory of how I got there and why. It made me think giving my son up for adoption was safe and beneficial for him. It made me leave Mulder when he needed me most. It made me, excuse my choice of words, a heartless bitch."

"Why are you doing this to yourself? You know it isn't true. None of it," I insisted.

"When the UFOs first arrived, and I was on the bridge," she continued, ignoring my interruption. "They came to me. There was the light and I remembered… I remembered… Something. They have taken me before. But not this time. This time they examined me and apparently decided they have no use for me anymore. So… They turned me off."

"Turned you off?" I wasn't getting it. Any of it.

"My chip," she clarified. "The control they had over me. It's over. I can see things clearly again, but there's nothing I can do to fix them anymore."

"Scully…"

"If William was here… I could treat everybody."

"Scully…"

"I can't tell him how sorry I am. Not even that. Not to him nor to Mulder."

"Scully…"

"So I'm telling you, sir," she finally looked me in the eyes, finishing her confession, but not asking for resolution. Not asking for forgiveness, as if she didn't deserve to even ask.

"You told me," my voice was shaky, and firmer than I wanted it to be. "You told me you did it to protect him and that no one can ever find out anything about his whereabouts. You begged me to make sure of it, damn it!"

"I did," she nodded. "I don't blame you. You only did what I asked of you. It's not your fault. I am the one who doomed us all."

"How do I know it's you?" I demanded. "How do I know it's not the chip talking? Tell me, how do I know I can trust you now?"

"You were there during my pregnancy," she was barely holding back the tears. "And even before. You knew how much I wanted him, how hard I worked to protect him. You knew I was the only one who could keep him safe. You knew… You knew I would never have given him away."

"You did it to protect him!" I almost yelled, feeling guilty and desperate myself. She was starting to making sense, and if what she was saying was true then I was just as guilty as her when it comes to William. She may have decided to give him up, but I was the one who made it happen. And no one knew better than me that it _didn't_ make him safe.

"Did I also break up with Mulder in order to protect him?" she asked bitterly. "After everything we've been through… After we went to the end of the world for each other and sacrificed everything for each other… Would I really walk away from him simply because he got sick? Does that sound like who I really am? Or at least who I used to be…"

"No…" I admitted, after a moment of silence. "No, it doesn't."

"I'm sorry to have bothered you with this," she sighed, getting up. "I'll let you get some rest."

"Scully, wait!" I stopped her from leaving. I realized at that moment that I would have told her before, at any point, if only she had asked. It was all her choice, and if she regretted it I had no right to stand in her way. Whether the promise I made was to her or her chip, whether she or her chip were standing in front of me, whether any of this was happening for real or only in my fevered mind, I had to speak up. "If what you're saying is true, then you have to go get William. You don't have much time left. Go get him and fix this, Agent Scully. It's an order."

The tears silently fell from her eyes and she grabbed her hands with each other trying to stop the shaking of her whole body. She came to me and was being heard. She was being offered a chance to fix everything, a resolution that she didn't dare to ask. And she was still oblivious to all of it.

"I don't know where he is," she whispered, out voiced by the sound of her heart breaking. Or maybe it was the noise of my head exploding. One or the other. In each case, we didn't have much time. Neither of us did.

"But I do," I said.

And I told her everything.


	13. Miracle

(Dana)

Mulder. I left him all alone. Even if I was doing it to try to save him, I did it again. Chip or no chip, I keep leaving him behind.

It isn't the first time that I was willing to cross the oceans in search of a cure. But it was different when I went to Africa, he was in a hospital surrounded by doctors and all the care that he needed.

He is in the hospital again, but this time it's overcrowded hospital with very few doctors and nurses who simply can't treat everybody, and all of them are sick themselves, more or less. My DNA can only do so much for them. William's DNA on the other hand…

But no, I can't think about William. I am barely holding it together without the memories of him as a baby and my complete failure as his mother.

Christ, I even convinced Skinner I was doing the right thing! And he was the closest thing William had to a father…

No, I can't think about my poor baby. My child… My almost grown man…

How will I possibly face him now? What right do I have to demand of him to save his father, who abandoned him even before I did, never claiming him as his own?

Though Mulder didn't want to leave us. That was my idea, too. I made him go away. And now I left him all alone, well aware that short of a miracle I will never see him again. I will never have the opportunity to tell him how sorry I am. To tell him that I love him more than ever before, now that my chip is off and I can feel genuine emotions again. He will never know the truth. He never blamed me, not once, not for leaving our son, and not for leaving him, as if he didn't even deserve anything more than that. That's how big his love for me is and always was. I don't deserve him. I never did.

I wonder if now that my chip is turned off the cancer will come back. I wonder if it'll be in the same place, or somewhere else. I wonder how long it will take for it to kill me. Will it be fast enough? I might be immune to the world's biggest and deadliest epidemic event in the history of mankind, but I am not immune to cancer. Not without the chip, and frankly I don't want to be. By this point, death would be a relief as I have nothing left to live for, nothing but a wish to see my son once more and beg him for a miracle.

I have no right, no reason, no faith to believe in miracles and I certainly don't deserve one. But Mulder does. And William… William was always my miracle. Our miracle.

He is alive. He is out there. It's all that matters. I can't think about anything else, because it will break me and I can't afford to break, not right now.

And Charlie… Oh my god, Charlie! All the bitterness and resentment I felt for him for all these years, that wasn't the chip, that was me! I almost hated him, while he risked everything and gave up all to raise my son in safety. How will I ever make up to my brother? How will I ever thank him?

I can't think about them, and yet I do. I have no idea how Skinner managed to find a private plane and a pilot willing to embark on a journey to Europe through the sky filled with UFOs. It's a suicide mission. They could easily take us down any moment, like flies.

Strangely, they don't. They are probably too busy to bother with flies, who are dying anyway. They seem to be waiting, quietly and patiently.

I heard them. When they came, when their light hit me on the bridge, I could hear them and understand them. They must have been aware of it, since they quickly disabled my chip, turning me off before I could figure out their agenda for our planet.

I turned to Mulder then and he smiled at me. It was a smile of both victory and defeat at the same time.

 _You see, Scully_ , his gaze told me. _They are here. You can't deny what's right above you, not this time. I was right, and this is my proof. I was right, and yet I failed to stop it. I failed in every way_.

After that he closed his tired eyes and he hasn't opened them again…

Oh Mulder… William… Forgive me. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…

"Ma'am? Are you all right?" the pilot brought me back to present moment. The flying-with-the-UFOs-and-you-were-wrong-about-everything-ever-Dr.-Scully bizarre moment.

"Yes, I'm fine…" I managed to find my voice. "…I'm sorry, I forgot your name."

I'm an FBI agent. I'm trained to remember much more details than a mere name, but I wasn't trained to do it during the official end of the world.

"Luke," the pilot said. "Call me Luke."

"Luke," I repeated, willing my brain to store it somewhere. Wasn't that the name of Agent Doggett's son? How can I not be sure? He was my partner, for god's sake!

End of the world, Dana. Flying underneath, above and between UFOs, Dana. Your ability to remember names is irrelevant now. Dana.

William… The name I'm trying not to think about, the most loved of all names. My grandfather, my uncle, my cousin, my father, my brother… My son… Even the middle name of the only man I would ever truly love, if it wasn't for the chip that prevented it.

I may have not been allowed to properly love Mulder, as he truly deserved to be loved, but they will not stop me from dying for him! Either I'll bring his son back to him, or I'll die trying!

"Why…" I asked the pilot, motioning for the UFOs. "Why are you doing this?"

"This?" he seemed confused for a second, then he gave me a bitter smile. "I buried my parents a few days ago. Both of them on the same day. Funny thing is, my father didn't even die from a disease, he was healthier than any of us. He died from grief for my mother, only a couple of hours after her. I couldn't just sit around and wait to bury my wife and children. If there is a slightest chance this kid could save humanity, I had to take it, no matter the consequences."

I nodded, not having anything to say.

"He's your son?" Luke asked me after a few moments of silence.

"No," I answered. "Not anymore. Not for a long time."

He didn't ask anything else, and I was grateful for the silence. I've spent the rest of the flight thinking about not thinking about… him. The UFOs stayed behind us at some point and we were left with nothing but a clear blue sky, nothing but a hope against all hope…

"We are now entering Bosnian air space," Luke informed me after a small eternity. "Where exactly do you want me to land?"

"I don't… I don't know," I admitted, not having a clue. Skinner didn't know. I got covered in goose bumps, remembering what I knew about Bosnia, most of my knowledge obtained from video tapes that long ago made me delusional and almost made me kill Mulder, who didn't even try to protect himself from me, so blind was his faith in me, even when I was acting nothing short of crazy.

Mulder… William… I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…

"What do you want me to do then?" Luke inquired. I didn't know what to tell him. I had no answer, no clue, nothing… Nothing but faith in William. My baby. My miracle.

I closed my eyes for a second, and when I opened them again the UFOs were back. They seemed to have been gathering around a beam of light, a beam that emanated from a pyramid shaped hill.

If that wasn't a sign, I didn't know what was! My mother's instinct, which I hadn't felt in almost forever, screamed and kicked and I almost jumped out of the plane in excitement and impatience.

"Here!" I pointed, yelling and laughing and crying, all at the same time. "Land here!"


	14. Sobering up

(Charlie)

I wasn't born to be a soldier, or any kind of a hero. I never had it in me to save the world. In fact, I even gave up on basic things like saving my marriage and my sanity a long time ago and the only thing that still kept me going was William's well-being. He was a light in my darkness, my rock in hard times, my heir, my everything.

I lost everything when I lost him. I hoped against all hope that the sweet innocent boy is still trapped in there, but in the end Spender's genes prevailed and there wasn't any Scully left in him.

I realized my defeat yesterday, when his team finally managed to reach the heart of their damn pyramid and all hell broke loose on our little town. There was an earthquake, a weird, loud noise that sounded out of this world, and a beam of light appeared on the top of the pyramid hill, reaching into the sky for as far as the eye could see and probably much, much farther.

The UFOs arrived shortly after that. They are now gathered over the pyramid, as if waiting for something. People are frightened, but they are eagerly raising their smart phones towards the sky as if they are competing who gets the better video of the dooms day. It's not a cool thing to die without a few selfies with a space ship stored in your phone. Apparently.

"This is the biggest pyramid," William informed me the last time I saw him, which was days ago, though it felt like months. "This is their base, the energy station. When they reach us, nothing will be able to stop them."

He offered to take me with him, but he wasn't disappointed when I refused. It didn't seem to matter to him, either way. I gave up everything, literary everything for him, and he left me behind without a second thought.

"If you drink my blood, you'll become like us," he offered politely. I had no idea who 'us' referred to and I really, really didn't want to find out. I just shook my head and watched my nephew go to join whatever forces set out to destroy our world.

His _virgin_ blood! That's how he called it, with a proud face. Jesus!

I found myself something else to drink, all right. I didn't even know what it was, something unlabeled and homemade that I paid a fortune for, since alcohol wasn't easy to find in the times of apocalypse. The stores were closed and robbed, so everything was scarce and unavailable, though I couldn't care less. All I wanted was a bottle of something strong, I got something close enough and it worked. After years and years of abstinence, it worked like a miracle!

I may not have a selfie with creatures who stole my nephew and turned him against me, but at least I won't die sober. That's got to count for something, right?

What a crazy world we are losing! What a terrible, wonderful place!

I didn't want my last thought to be of William. Anybody but that traitor! My children, I should think about them. My sisters, my brothers. Even my damn blood father!

Anybody but William!

Of course, all I could think about was William.

I needed more alcohol. I took a huge sip, coughed, and begged Missy for help.

Shortly after, she came.

"Charlie?" I heard a familiar voice. Even after all these years, I still recognized her voice.

It wasn't Missy, though.

I raised my head and looked at her. "I was expecting Missy," I informed her.

"Charlie," her voice was breaking, her hair was a mess and she looked damn old and desperate. Not as I remembered ever seeing her, but damn beautiful just as well. "Missy is dead."

She looked at me from a safe distance and, since I was sitting on the kitchen floor, from above. My tiny, skinny sister looked damn huge from my drunk perspective. She looked so real, so alive.

"I know," I nodded, taking a sip of my last drink, the only sort of last dinner I fancied. "And so are you."

"No," she shook her head, not taking her eyes off of me, but not approaching me either. "I'm not dead, Charlie, I'm here!"

"Well, if you weren't dead, you wouldn't be here," I calculated. "You would never find me."

"Charlie…"

"Don't worry, Starbuck. Half of the world is probably dead already. The other half will follow soon. You won't be lonely."

"Charlie, listen to me!" she cut me off, incredibly impatient for a deceased person. Missy taught me time doesn't exist for the dead, but Dana apparently hadn't noticed that. She seemed to be in a rush. Not that she ever listened to Missy, anyway. "I need to find William. Is he okay?"

"Define okay," I shrugged, trying to drink faster. I didn't want to die before emptying the bottle.

"Where is he?" for a woman who gave him up and never asked about him afterwards, she was surprisingly persistent.

"He could be in Klingon, as far as I know," I answered bitterly. I didn't want to talk about her son. I wanted to get drunk, die, and reunite with my childhood hamster. And I wanted Missy to be my guide on the other side, not Dana with her never-ending questions, her skepticism, her science, her father-issues…

"I've missed you," I admitted.

"I've missed you, too… And him…" she sobbed. "You have to tell me where he is!"

"I'm not dead yet," I shrugged. "You figure it out. Do the ghost thing or whatever you did to find me."

"Skinner told me."

"Right. I figured he died as well."

"Damn it, Charlie!" Dana screamed at me. "Would you listen to me at once?! I am not dead and neither is Skinner, but he will be soon if I don't find William!"

"Your virgin boy," I nodded with understanding. "Did you know he's still a virgin?"

"I don't care!" she kept yelling. "JUST TELL ME WHERE HE IS!"

"He's just like you, isn't he?" I chuckled. "I remember you talking about saving yourself for marriage when you where his age, before you met-"

My speech was cut short by a loud gun shot, close to my right ear. I froze in shock for a second, then slowly turned my head and stared at the bullet in the wall.

"Can ghosts do that?" Dana asked me, dead calm this time. I switched my gaze to her, completely sober in an instance.

"Do you need more proof?" she spread her arms, as if offering herself. "Do you want to touch me? Exorcise me? I'm alive Charlie, against all odds but I'm alive, I'm here and I need your help."

"Dana…" I managed to mumble, jumping to my feet.

"It's me," she gently smiled through tears and for a moment everything was all right with my world. My big little bad-ass sister was standing right in front of me, and I didn't have to be strong anymore.

The next moment I remembered the apocalypse and my failure as an undercover uncle and I wasn't so happy to see her anymore. I didn't need witnesses for my laughable defeat, especially not in the form of the ambitious, overachieving sister.

"It can't be," I whispered, shaking my head. I carefully approached her and slowly raised my hand to her cheek, retrieving it quickly after feeling it's solid warmth. She really was there, in flesh and blood. "Is it really you?"

"Is it really you?" she repeated my question. I nodded, lowering my head so that she could check my neck and make sure that I wasn't a super-soldier or whatever. But instead of checking anything, she pulled me into an embrace and I inhaled her smell, a smell of sweat and home and family…

"I haven't been showering lately," I remembered, trying to pull away from her, but she wouldn't let go. "I didn't have a reason to…"

"I don't care," she sobbed, holding me tighter, and I reluctantly wrapped my arms around her. Our bodies shook in silent, but violent sobs. "Thank you, Charlie. Thank you for everything…"

"I couldn't stop him," I admitted to her hair. "I think he has a chip, just like you. It turned him into something… inhuman."

"My chip is turned off," she sounded determinant. "And we'll find a way to turn off his as well. I'll cut it out of him if I have to!"

"It's too late, Dana… I'm sorry."

"No, it's not. The world didn't end yet," she pulled away from me and stared at me with such intent that it scared me. Her fierce gaze pierced right through my soul, in a strange way giving me strength, courage and, most needed, hope.

"But we don't have much time," she concluded. "You have to take me to him. Now!"

I nodded, and without another word, or any equipment or idea about the next step, I left the apartment, with my sister right behind me. I had no idea how to find William, but there was only one place to start that made any sense at all.

The pyramid.


	15. Incubator

(William)

There's nothing quite as magical as finding your life's purpose, the reason you were born, especially when it's a grand, magnificent reason, while everybody around you were simply born to die as a small sacrifice for a better world.

I didn't yet know what kind of world it would be, but I trusted Them. I didn't fully comprehend who "Them" were, but it didn't bother me. I would have enough time to get to know Them, for now it was crucial that I helped Them, no questions asked. Only I could do that. Only I could assure their safe coming.

They offered me to take with me any man or a woman, to save any human beings of my choice, but I didn't feel a need for that. I thought about Bella for a while, then I realized she would only endanger the project. My sexual energy had to be focused only on Their agenda, it is a powerful energy that couldn't be wasted on primitive pleasures. I had to remain pure, a virgin, for Them to be able to harvest from me what They needed in order to adapt to life on Earth. Something in my blood makes it possible for Them to survive on this planet, just as it makes it possible for any human to adapt as well and not waste away during colonization.

But I had no humans to save. When the time came for me to choose between Them and people, I didn't have to think twice.

I suggested to uncle to come with me, to accept salvation, but he refused. He abandoned me just like everybody else that was supposed to care for me. All my parents left me, either by dying or by giving me away to "protect" me. My friends… It's hard to make lasting friendships when you are living like a fugitive.

No, there just wasn't anybody.

But there will be soon. They are coming. The sky is already full of them and it's only the matter of days until they land and take over. My loneliness will be over then. The fight about me will be over. Apparently lots of groups fought over me, some trying to destroy me, others to protect me. But either way, they all lost. All but Them.

I've been living in the tunnels for about a week, fasting and meditating, to clean my body and spirit so that I could give Them only the best of me.

They talk to me telepathically. Not in words, but in some abstract concepts that somehow translate into thoughts in my mind. That's why I don't feel lonely, even though the rest of the people who helped me dig up the tunnels left the pyramid after their job was done.

Everything was ready and all I had to do was wait just a little bit longer for the fulfillment of my destiny, to deliver what I was carefully genetically modified for, even before my conception.

Then something went wrong.

I was in a deep meditative state when I heard footsteps approaching. A flashlight shone into my face, disturbing the peaceful darkness that surrounded me.

I opened my eyes, annoyed, and slowly got up, faced with my uncle and her, who invaded my visions and dreams for months, finally standing in front of me in flesh and blood. I would probably wonder how she managed to find me, but she was too insignificant to me to care.

"William…" she gasped, looking like she saw a ghost.

"That's him," uncle nodded, showing zero enthusiasm for seeing me again.

"What do you want?" I asked her. I didn't have time for this stupid interference. Too bad my friends changed shapes and left who knows where, instead of staying in the pyramid to deal with this kind of annoyance before it got to me. I had more important things to do.

"I want you to come with me," she spoke after a few moments. "Please, William. I need your help. To… save the world."

"Not interested," I shook my head.

"My god…" she choked on her words, and tears appeared in her eyes. She seemed to have forgotten her agenda as she stared at me with such an admiration that it made me want to puke. "My baby… Look at you… Just… Look at you…"

"I don't have time for this," I sighed. "I don't want you or anything from you. You need to go."

"I can't," she almost sobbed. "You need me, William. You are confused, manipulated and perhaps brainwashed and you need me. I'm not leaving you alone."

"Since when?!" I yelled at her.

"I thought I was protecting you!" she yelled back. "I was wrong and I'm sorry! I will spend the rest of my life telling you how sorry I am and trying to make it up to you!"

"Well it's a little bit late for that," I informed her. "Besides, 'the rest of your life' won't last long either way."

"I told you he's a lost cause," uncle said, but neither of us acknowledged him.

"You are my son," she threw empty phrases at me. "I am your mother!"

"You are not my mother," I reminded her. She opened her mouth to protest, but changed her mind and closed them again, trying to compose herself.

"It's true, William," uncle spoke instead. "This is Dana, my sister. This is your mother."

"No," my so-called mother shook her head, then nodded at me. "You are right, William, I am not your mother. I gave that up a long time ago and I can't take it back, even if you wanted me to. But I never stopped thinking about you. I never stopped loving you. I _was_ your mother, William, and nothing will ever change that."

"You," I spat with despise before I managed to finish the sentence. "You were just an incubator!"

"Dana, let's go, there's nothing we can do here," uncle grabbed her arm, but she pushed him away, otherwise ignoring him. Her focus was set solely on me and it gave me chills. It was time to get rid of her, one way or another.

"William Walter Scully!" she said to me firmly, slowly and carefully trying to approach me. "You are not who you think you are. You have to listen to me!"

"No, I'm not who _you_ think I am," I countered, slowly walking away from her, not letting her come closer. "What you called me doesn't have any significance. I've changed many names throughout my life, but my real name, the only name I indorse, is William Robert Petrie."

That stopped her advances. She stood still, looking puzzled and intrigued. "Your adoptive father's name is Robert Petrie?"

"Rob and Laura Petrie," I nodded, watching her expression change from surprised into hysterical. She fell apart, but laughing instead of crying. Uncle stared at her worryingly, but he didn't dare to approach her. He looked at me instead, demanding answers like what the hell I did to her.

"Nothing," I shrugged. "She already knows my parents' names and it is too much for her to comprehend."

"What do you mean?" uncle stared at me, afraid of me. It pleased me. It was the closest thing to respect I could get from him.

"I gave the names to her partner," I sighed, knowing very well that he wouldn't understand. "I did it before I was born. I reached into the past to provide him with that information. He thought those were just random names, but they weren't."

"What are you talking about?" poor old uncle was terribly confused. "It's not possible to change the past."

"No, it's not," I agreed. "Not in a big way, anyway, since it would change the present as well and if the present is not the same, then you are not changing the past in the present, because you are doing it in original present which wouldn't exist without original past. You can only make some insignificant changes that don't affect anything else, like I did when I planted my parents' names into his mind. It was the only time I did it, since They forbid me to try that again, insisting that even a small detail like that could be dangerous. Not that I wanted to try it again, it's not nearly as easy as it sounds."

Uncle gaped at me, his tiny brain incapable of comprehending my words. She, on the other hand, stopped laughing for long enough to look at me, with a mix of disbelief and admiration, as she said to herself or no one in particular: "If only you could see him, Mulder. You would be so proud!"

Then I remembered that I was supposed to kill her.

I've never killed anybody in my life, but They didn't see it like that. They said every time I bought meat, I paid for an animal to be killed, and that made me a murderer. For Them there is no difference between humans and animals.

But paying for someone's death isn't exactly the same as doing it yourself.

She, on the other hand, had years of experience. But what she didn't have was Their support and power of the pyramid. My race was on the rise, while hers was just weeks away from complete extinction. She wouldn't go with them, though. She was somehow immune, so I had to do it personally. I didn't know how though, so I decided to practice on uncle, a much weaker target.

Using only the power of my mind, I directed my focus onto him and quickly managed to lift him up. He levitated just a few centimeters above the ground, but I was still warming up.

"This isn't happening," uncle decided. "I am still drunk and none of this is happening."

"Put him down!" Mummy dearest ordered, so I did. Right into a tunnel wall. He fell with a shout, but he wasn't injured. Yet.

I licked my lips and tried again. It felt good. The power! They were right, taking a life would be extremely satisfying.

This time, uncle floated much higher, until his head touched the ceiling and I kept pushing him up until had started to bend from the pressure. But he wasn't looking at me. His attention was on her.

"Dana, no!" he yelled. "You can't do this! He's your son!"

I turned to look at her, losing my grip on uncle who immediately fell on the ground with a loud bang. He squeaked like a pig, catching his breath, while my mother and I stared at each other, contemplating our next move. She was pointing a gun at me at this point, looking determined to use it, which was something I didn't predict. For a moment I didn't know what to do, and that moment meant my defeat, since she was faster and didn't hesitate even for a fraction of a second.

"I don't have a choice," she said to uncle, with her gaze firmly fixed on me. "Please, Charlie, don't look!"

Before I heard or felt the bullet, I was already on the ground. The pain came from my shoulder, so intense that I lost consciousness and blackness swallowed me before I had time to comprehend what happened to me. What wasn't _supposed_ to happen.

The last thing I saw was her face, a woman who shot me just to try to stop the bleeding immediately afterwards, all the while whispering about her baby…


	16. Other brother

(Tara)

When I opened the door to answer the insistent knocking, I expected to see an alien. An assassin, maybe. A burglar or a beggar even.

Not my sister in law.

Either way, I didn't care. I moved away from the door to let her in but she just stood there, shaking and panting as if she'd been running for miles.

"Tara!" she gasped. "Thank god you're okay!"

Okay? I was anything but okay. But I didn't have the strength nor will to try to communicate that to her. I was barely keeping myself up on my feet and I was starting to wonder if she was really in front of me or if it was just my dying mind playing tricks on me.

"Tara, I need your help," she kept talking, not waiting for my response. "We don't have much time and I had no one else to turn to. Charlie is with me, as well as… William."

"William?" I was confused. Which William? I married into a family full of Williams.

"My son," she nodded and her eyes filled with tears. "It's a long story and I have so much to tell you, but there's no time now. They are both injured and I need help to get them inside. Where is Bill?"

I didn't answer. It didn't seem fair that she was able to get her son back from a secret and anonymous adoption and the thought filled me with rage and guilt at the same time. I wanted to be happy for her. I truly did. But there was no part of me left that had the ability to feel anything close to happiness.

"Where is he?" she repeated, her voice impregnated with fear now. She seemed to had finally noticed my black clothes and the deadly quietness of the place. "Is he…?"

She looked like she might faint, so I turned around and went to the kitchen to get her some water. It took a crazy amount of effort to turn on the faucet, open the cupboard and take out a clean glass. My eyes were foggy, I had trouble adjusting the glass under the running water so it went all over my shaky hand. I remembered how water is supposed to be cold and wet, but I just stared at it, feeling nothing, as if it wasn't even my hand.

"Oh, Tara," Dana cried out behind me. "I am so sorry. I was too late… Bill… Oh god…"

I turned around and handed her the glass that seemed to have no weight.

"He's sleeping," I pointed my head in the direction of our bedroom.

"He's alive?" Dana gasped, some color returning to her cheeks that seemed so pale moments ago. Or maybe it was just the lightning.

"Barely," I answered. "It won't be long now. I hope. I don't want to leave him behind."

"No, Tara, you won't have to!" Dana placed her free hand on my upper arm, with other still holding the untouched glass of water. "I have the cure! I have it! I can save him! I can save both of you and everybody else. This isn't the end, and I have what it takes to win against this invasion. Trust me, Tara. The world didn't end yet, and with my help it won't."

I stared at her, unimpressed. Her words meant nothing to me. I would try to help however I can, but I didn't want her help. I didn't want her cure. Death was the only cure I needed.

"For us it did end," I informed her. I watched her expression change from confused, to a sheer terror as the realization hit her. I didn't have to say the words. I wouldn't be able to say them even if I had to.

"No!" she screamed. "It can't be! My god… Mathew!" she called in vain.

The glass fell on the floor and she lost her balance, but I somehow managed to catch her and help her sit on the chair. I went to get another glass and placed it on the table in front of her. She didn't acknowledge it, but I really didn't expect her to. I just needed to have something to do, no matter how pointless.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no," Dana chanted through tears in my kitchen and I left her to it. I slowly closed the door behind me to allow her to grieve in privacy, which was always how she liked to do it. Even if she wanted it I wouldn't have any comfort to offer her, since my pain went deeper than hers, so deep that I was already drowned in it, relaying only on an auto pilot to keep me acting alive.

I did what I could, what she came to me for. I went to wake her brother so that we could finally take our guests inside, let her do her magic and save the world.

For those that were still alive in this whole mess.

Or just for those that still had a reason to live.


	17. Little sister

(Bill)

"Are you awake?" I heard a whisper that accompanied a soft touch to my forehead.

"Yeah," I groaned, opening my eyes with a great effort.

"How are you feeling?" Dana asked me with a sad voice. She looked like hell, but she worried about me?

"The same," I answered, closing my eyes again. "I made my peace with god, Dana. I'm an old man, and even without this… pandemic events, I wouldn't have much longer to live."

"Don't say that," she gasped, taking my hand. "Your time hasn't come yet."

I didn't bother to respond to that. No parent should outlive his child, his only son. But how would she understand that? She gave away _her_ only son, then she crossed the ocean to find him, only to put a bullet in his shoulder. As if that wasn't enough, she cut the back of his neck, believing there was a chip in there and if she removed it the aliens wouldn't be able to track him.

Mathew died due to an alien invasion, and the only person those beings apparently wanted was now sleeping in his bed, my own son's bed!

Dana climbed on the bed with me and rested her head on my chest. "Thank you for letting us stay here."

As if I would ever refuse to give shelter to my siblings, no matter how estranged we all are.

"You should take him to the hospital," I said for no reason at all, knowing she wouldn't listen. Anybody else would have done that days ago, but my sister had other ideas.

"Hospitals are overcrowded," she told me, and honestly, she couldn't have been more right. "He wouldn't get any help there. Besides, if they are trying to find him, they would definitely check hospitals first. This was the closest safe place I could find."

"Germany is the closest country to DC?" I wasn't really getting it.

"No," she replied. "To Bosnia. It's closer than home and William is not well enough to travel that far. The bullet didn't come out nice and clean. I did what I could for him, but he is facing a long recovery period."

"And you shot him," I clarified, still having trouble to believe it.

"I had to," she whispered.

"Because he was trying to kill Charlie?"

"Yes…"

"He threw him around and broke his leg?"

"Yes…"

"Without even touching him?"

"Oh, Bill… Look out of the window. This isn't the world we grew up in. Everything is different now and what we knew to be true and possible is altered in so many ways."

I sighed. There was nothing I could say to counter that, so I kept quiet. I wrapped my arm around her, pulling her closer, just like I used to do when we were kids. Dana used to be a very frightened little girl, afraid of spiders and monsters, and her imagination would run crazy in the dark. Many nights she had spent in my bed, trusting me to keep her safe and scare the shadows away. So many nights in fact, that we ended up sharing a room. Charlie moved with Melissa and Dana took his bed, but for a long time she would just climb into the bed with me and we would talk until late in the night. Mother went through hell trying to wake us up for school in the mornings. She didn't like finding us in the same bed, so eventually we stopped doing it. Eventually, Dana went back to Missy and Charlie came back to me.

But neither of us forgot the bond that we shared.

As a little girl, Dana believed in monsters, aliens and boogie men. In her mind they were all out to get her. I liked my role as her protector, as the only family member who believed her and took her seriously. Charlie was a baby and Missy was always living in her own world, while our parents were often too busy. Dana turned to me when she needed help, and I was happy to give it to her. I taught her to think rationally and never accept anything that she couldn't prove. I explained to her that science can prove monsters never existed, and she decided to be a scientist. When she swore that there was something under her bed, I would turn up the light and show her that nothing was there.

"But what if the light is broken?" she would ask me, always stubborn and always looking for obstacles. "How will I know then?"

"Then you will remember that when light wasn't broken, the monsters weren't there," I explained. "You don't have to prove it every time."

Still, she was determined to prove it many more times before she finally accepted it.

I've spent my childhood proving to my sister that monsters weren't real.

She grew up to find a partner whose sole purpose in life was to prove her the opposite.

"You are going back to him, aren't you?" I asked her after a long silence.

"You know I have to," her sigh was almost a sob. "I left him in a critical condition and he may not be alive anymore, but I have to believe that he is, Bill, I have to."

"He is," I assured her.

"How do you know?" she sounded like a little girl again, the same little sister that used to run to her big brother for proof that monsters didn't live in her closet, only this time she wanted me to assure her of the opposite – that one particular monster was still alive and waiting for her in the darkness.

"Because," I smiled bitterly. "Mulder is one tough son of a bitch!"

Dana chuckled on my chest in response.

"And you are one hell of a woman, Dana," I reminded her. "He would be a fool to die on you."

She raised her head to look me in the eyes. "I own my strength to you. You made me, Bill."

"I am proud of you," I told her. I wanted her to know that before I died. Even though we drifted over the years, even though we barely kept in touch long before the apocalypse made that impossible, even though she made stupid life choices… I was still proud of her.

She rested her head on my chest again and changed the subject. "I'm leaving in the morning. I can't take William, he is too weak."

"Can you at least take Charlie?" I wondered and she chuckled. As the youngest kid in the family, Charlie was always considered to be annoyance and no one wanted to take him anywhere. Maybe that's why he ended the way he did.

"I could, but he doesn't want to leave William. Besides, he would slow me down. It's better that he stays."

"Better for you, you mean."

"Bill, don't be like that. Charlie made huge sacrifices for my son. They mean everything to each other."

"Dana, of course they can stay," I assured her. "They are family and I've always taken care of my family."

"I know you have," Dana agreed. "I know they will be fine here. But what about you? Will you be okay?"

"Don't ask me that," I sighed heavily.

"After Emily died," Dana started. "I had a vision of her telling me to let her go. It was one of the hardest things I ever had to do, maybe even harder than watching her die. She was a child that was never meant to be and the only child I thought I'd ever have. I buried a part of myself with her. The pain never really goes away, but the life goes on. You have so much to live for, even if it doesn't feel like that at the moment."

I didn't want to listen to that. She had good intentions, but she didn't know what she was talking about. Maybe Emily was biologically hers, but she wasn't her mother, and the same goes for William. She gave him up, for god's sake! If she hadn't wanted him, she could have given him to us instead of strangers. Tara and I would have taken him, we always wanted more children, but it just wasn't meant to be. Mathew and William could have been raised as brothers. Our family was never the same after Dana's terrible decision. I didn't even come to my mother's funeral, because I couldn't bear to see my sister again. She now blames the chip in her neck for her mistakes, the chip that I never wanted her to take. Even if it really was what cured her cancer, was the price worth it?

If I wasn't on my death bed – which according to her and thanks to the vaccine she developed from her son's blood, I really wasn't anymore – I would've never forgiven her.

But she is still my sister and I love her. She took the responsibility in the end and she's trying to clean up after her mistakes. I guess saving the world might redeem her in the end and for that I really am proud of her. For the rest, I'm too old to hold a grudge.

"Can I sleep here?" she asked me. "There are aliens outside and I'm lonely and afraid."

"As long as you don't snore," I agreed.

I slept well that night, and I woke up stronger, feeling much better. Dana was already long gone by then.


	18. Family

(Charlie)

I never felt like a real man. Always a coward, a baby, a pussy, never a decent, successful, honorable man worth of even a little respect.

Real men don't drink. Real men don't leave their children. Real men keep in touch with their mother and siblings.

Real men don't wait for apocalypse wallowing in self-pity. Real men don't get tossed around by a kid and they don't scream when their sister is fixing their broken leg. Real men are not afraid of a big brother.

Real men stay and fight and they never give up. I did learn that in the end.

I stayed by his side while he fought for his life. I refused to sleep on the couch, so Tara finally came up with an old mattress and improvised a bunk on the floor next to Matthew's bed, now occupied by William. I slept in the room of a one nephew I never met, watching over other nephew that I loved more than my own son, if that's even possible.

I was in pain, but I learned to suck it up and keep quiet. Tara and Bill buried their son recently, while Dana had to shoot hers and leave him without a chance to apologize, since he had to be sedated in order to fight his wound. So who was I to complain about anything?

For the first two days Bill wasn't getting up, but then his condition started to improve. He started helping me get up and go to the bathroom when I needed it. He did the best he could to make me feel welcomed, but it didn't feel sincere. My brother was never a particularly warm person, but now there wasn't even a hint of light left him. He seemed to have given up, looking like I felt when William left me to help destroy my world.

Except that I got William back and Bill will never have Matthew back.

While Bill took care of me, Tara was nursing William. Dana left us plenty of everything he might need: drugs, infusions, bandages, diapers… I believe she left her soul with him as well.

We didn't know if she would manage to return to US. We had no way of contacting her. The vaccine worked, Bill was proof enough, and Dana decided to give the cure to the government of Spain before going home. That way, even if she didn't make it, at least Europe would be saved. She didn't want the vaccine to be distributed from Germany, since she didn't want to reveal William's location. Those… whoever… needed him and were almost certainly searching for him.

But without a chip, which we left in the damn pyramid, William was untraceable. He was just another anonymous face in the chaotic, terrified crowd.

I was afraid of them. I believed they had to have another way to kill us all, but so far it wasn't happening. They stayed in the sky, their numbers even seemed to be decreasing.

The television broadcasted news about people getting better in Spain and we were all relieved. Dana has made it so far! At least to Spain. There was no way to make contact with other continents, but in my heart I believed Dana was already home, safe and sound, along with her partner, Skinner and my children.

I had to believe it. Anything less would be unthinkable.

The first day that we didn't manage to spot a single UFO in the sky, William woke up. His fever finally went down, infection was under control and he seemed to have been out of the woods.

"Where are we?" I heard him asking, weak and confused. I quickly sat up, grabbed his hand and kissed it hard, thanking god, aliens and whoever was listening for letting him come back to me.

"How are you feeling, kid?" I was suddenly nervous and I instinctively released his hand. What if he tries to kill me again?

"I…" he closed his eyes, thinking. "Where are we?" he opened them again, demanding answers.

"Germany," I said. "But you wouldn't remember getting here, you were sedated the whole time."

"Weren't we going to Bosnia?" he asked, looking at me with trust and innocence, like he used to look at me before his visions started and before he knew anything about who he really was. This was my William, the boy I left in Italy, not the monster that arrived to Bosnia.

"That was months ago," I said gently, trying not to upset him. "How much do you remember?"

"Yeah," he closed his eyes again, trying to connect the dots. "Yeah, I remember… But not much. We were digging. Lots of digging."

If the memories of Bosnia stayed in the damn chip and were lost to him forever, I had absolutely zero objections to that.

"My shoulder," he winced. "What happened to me?"

"Don't try to move," I advised him. "You were shot. But you are going to be okay."

"Shot?" his eyes grew big. "Who shot me?"

 _'_ _Your mother,'_ I didn't say.

He looked around, alarmed. Then he looked down, seeing the cast on my leg.

"What happened to you?" there was worry in his voice, along with fear and maybe even panic.

"It's just broken," I said.

 _'_ _You tried to kill me,'_ I didn't say.

"Are we in danger?" he inquired.

"No," I assured him. "Not anymore. It's all over. You just need to rest for a while and you'll be as good as new. Meanwhile," I remembered that we weren't alone anymore. "There are somebodies I want you to meet."

"Tara! Bill!" I called. "He's awake!"

I took William's hand again and smiled encouragingly, my fears of him all gone. It was time for him to meet his family.

Tara and Bill came into the room. Tara approached the bed, while Bill kept a distance.

"Hi," she smiled to William. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been hit by a truck," William answered honestly and we all chuckled. Well, everybody except Bill.

"This is your aunt Tara," I introduced her to him. "And your uncle Bill."

"Real aunt?" William was excited. "Real uncle?"

"We are real, honey," Tara assured him.

"Yes," I confirmed. "Bill is my brother."

"You have a brother?" William was impressed.

 _'_ _Half-brother, but he doesn't know that, so I won't say it,'_ I didn't say.

"He does," Bill looked at me and nodded. It was assurance meant more for me than William and I nodded back.

"Look at him," Tara's eyes filled with tears. "Can you really not see how much he looks like Matthew?"

"No," Bill was firm. "He looks like his father to me!"

"Who is Matthew?" William wanted to know.

"Matthew is… was your cousin," Tara sniffed. "He was our son."

"Was?" William asked for clarifications and I turned my head away. This exchange was too painful to watch.

"We lost him," I heard Tara's broken voice. "He got very sick very fast and he didn't make it."

"I'm sorry," William's voice was quiet a sad. He just learned that he lost a cousin he never knew he had. I couldn't begin to imagine how he felt. "Was this his room?"

"Yes," Tara confirmed. "You can use anything you need. He would want you to."

"Tara!" Bill interrupted her. "That's enough now. He needs to rest. Let's leave him to it."

"Yes, of course," Tara complied. "Call us if you need anything, okay?"

"Okay," William agreed.

"Charles," Bill addressed me. "Are you good? Need anything?"

"No, I'm fine, thank you."

Bill nodded and him and Tara left. I lied back down, but I couldn't rest. My mind was racing and my eyes were wide open, staring at the ceiling.

"Did I really see my mother?" William apparently wasn't resting either.

"Do you remember?" I asked him, cautiously.

"No, I just… I have this feeling…" he tried to explain, but gave up with a sigh.

I didn't say anything. I kept staring at the ceiling, waiting for an answer to fall from it, for the god himself to come down and have this conversation instead of me. William was quiet as well, but I could feel his alertness.

"She didn't want to hurt you," I finally said. I wanted to clarify that part, just in case he does remember a thing or two in the future, so that he wouldn't start freaking out. "She was trying to save you. You and the rest of us."

"Who is she?" William asked. "Is she important? Powerful? Are we running away from her? Or because of her?"

"She…" I didn't know how to answer his questions, so I decided to say what he really needed to hear. "She is amazing. You'd love her."

"Will I ever meet her?" he asked the most natural question in the world.

"Do you want to?" I asked what needed to be asked first.

"Does she?" he sounded uncertain.

"Yes, she does. More than anything, trust me," I tried to assure him.

"Then why isn't she here?" he was bitter now, understandably. "If she was here, why did she leave me? Again?"

"So that one day you could meet your father too," I explained.

"I don't understand."

"Your father is very sick," I told him. "She's the only one how can save him. He needs her now more than you do. Things are different now and one day you will have the opportunity to meet them."

"What if I don't want to?"

"Then you don't have to. They will respect that."

We stayed quite for a few minutes, but our thoughts were so loud, I could almost hear his.

"She shot me," he said after a while. It wasn't a question, but merely a conclusion. He connected the dots, read between the lines, a true genius, a true Scully. Neither of which I ever was or ever will be.

"She didn't have a choice," I told him.

"She shot you, too," another statement. Maybe not a genius after all.

"No, she didn't. I fell," it wasn't the whole truth, but it wasn't a lie either. I couldn't tell if he believed me or not, but he didn't comment further. Another short silence occurred.

"I'm going to become a vegetarian," he suddenly declared, out of nowhere.

"Okay," I acknowledged, not knowing what else to say and not daring to ask why. Who could tell what was going on in his head? Did I really need to know at the moment? Maybe that stupid decision was a side effect of drugs and he wouldn't remember it in the morning.

"I love you, uncle," he said next and that I hoped he would remember in the morning and forever after. "I want to stay with you."

"I love you too, William," I assured him. "And I'm not going anywhere."

"Not with that leg, you aren't," he chuckled and I laughed in response, wholeheartedly. I laughed away the fear, the pain, the tension and worry.

Free. I was free again, free from all the running and past mistakes. The future suddenly looked bright and beautiful for both of us. No more running. No more hiding. We could be who we really are, after a very long and seemingly endless time. For me, at least. William couldn't even remember what freedom felt like. He would like it, for sure! A permanent address, friends, girlfriends, continuous education… For the first time in his life he will be able to have all that without needing to sacrifice it ever again.

He deserved it. He saved the world. He alone. Just by existing.


	19. Our son

(Scully)

I knocked on the door, trying to steady my shaking hands. The doorbell wasn't working and no one was answering.

I knocked harder. I didn't come all this way for nothing. I had to meet her and I wasn't going anywhere until that happened, even if I had to camp on her porch.

Finally, I heard footsteps approaching. I removed my hand from the door and took a deep breath, willing myself to calm down. I could do this. I could.

"Yes?" she opened the door just enough to peek at me.

"Hi," I smiled nervously. "My name is-"

"Dana Scully," she cut me off. "I know who you are."

Of course she did. Everybody knew who I was. I was on every news on every continent. After months of dissecting my work and my private life, the media was still starving for a piece of me. Their hero. The woman who stopped the invasion. Alone. The woman who saved everybody.

Everybody but her partner…

"I'm Laura," she opened the door a little wider and offered her hand to me. "Laura Petrie."

"I know who you are," I shook her hand. "Can I come in?"

"What for?" she looked suspicious.

"I need to talk to you," I announced, silently praying for her to let me in. Being rejected by this woman just wasn't an option, not after everything I… we've been through. "About your son."

"I don't have a son," her voice grew cold and she grasped the door, otherwise remaining calm.

"You do," I objected. "And I… I gave birth to him."

Her head shook fiercely and she looked like she saw a ghost. And I know how people look after seeing a ghost!

"Please," I pleaded. "He's ok. He's safe now. You have to trust me. Just… Just let me in and we'll talk."

"He's alive?" she gasped, moving from the door and I walked inside, closing them behind me.

"He's alive," I assured her. I waited for a call from Germany for months and it finally arrived two days ago. I wouldn't have come to her if I wasn't sure. I would never do that to her.

"Oh," she covered her mouth with her hand, shaking as much as I did. She burst out crying and her legs gave up on her. I had to catch her to prevent her from falling and she leaned on me, wrapping her arms around me, sobbing desperately in my embrace. I held her firmly, crying with her, needing the contact as much as she did. Nobody knew better than me how she felt. Nobody but a mother who had to give up her child could possibly understand. We shared that pain.

We shared a son. A son that didn't get to grow up with either of us and that was a loss that couldn't be replaced.

"I'm sorry," she smiled when she managed to pull herself together and separate from me. "I'm sorry, I… Dana Scully. Of course. I've heard so much about you. His life… The danger… It's starting to make sense now…"

"Why don't we sit down?" I suggested, wiping my tears. "We have a lot to talk about."

"Yeah… Yes, of course. This way."

She led me to the living room and we sat on the couch next to each other.

"Dana," she stared at me with a loving gaze. "Of course. He had your eyes. I could never forget his eyes. I wish… I wish Rob lived to see you. My husband," she explained.

"He's dead?" My heart sunk with her words. I felt her loss as if it was my own. In a way, it really did mirror my own loss.

"He died before you developed the first vaccine," she nodded. "I almost did as well. Even with the vaccine it was a miracle that I recovered. A miracle I never asked for… I hated you, you know? For forcing me to keep living. I hated you for a long time. If I didn't end up in the hospital, too sick to think or make decisions, I would've refused the second vaccine. I didn't want your cure."

"It wasn't mine," I told her honestly. "It came from him."

"William?" she was surprised. "I never… He was never mentioned, anywhere! Only you…"

"No," I shook my head. "Nobody knows but me and a few people I trust."

"Why are you telling me?" she wondered. "You don't even know me. Why do you trust me?"

"You are his mother," I said simply, suppressing the incredible pain caused by saying those words to another woman. "You deserve to know."

"I didn't give birth to him," she objected. "I've spent so little time with him."

"So did I," I couldn't keep tears from falling again. "As for giving birth, it doesn't make you a mother. Love does."

"Dana," her tears were also falling. "How can you be so generous and willing to share him with me? You could have him all for yourself."

"It wouldn't be right," I shook my head. "His father… My partner… dedicated his life to finding the truth. And I walked that path beside him. I am not going to hide truth from our son. Or you, his family."

"Your partner? He… He's the father?"

I nodded. There was no need for additional explanations.

"Oh my god," Laura sighed miserably. "I'm so sorry."

I shook my head, not trusting myself to speak. I prepared myself to talk about William, and that took all the strength and self-control that I had. I wasn't ready to talk about Mulder as well.

"I…" Laura hesitated, sensing my discomfort. "I've prayed for him all the time," she turned the conversation back to William and I was grateful for it. "There wasn't a day that I haven't thought about him. Not knowing was driving me crazy. Sometimes… Sometimes I wished… I wished he was… dead… instead of missing. It would've been easier, or so I thought. I am a terrible person."

"No, you're not," I objected. "In a way, it really is easier. William wasn't my first child. I had a daughter, a very sick little girl. She died in my arms. All these years I had a grave to visit, to bring flowers to, to pray on… I knew where she was, at least."

An empty grave, but it was still a grave. Emily's green blood dissolved her body and evaporated, leaving nothing behind but a hole in my heart.

"I'm so sorry," Laura whispered.

"I didn't give birth to her," I continued. "I've known her for such a short time. But she wasn't any less my daughter because of it."

"You adopted her?"

"No. I wanted to, but they wouldn't let me. I was a single workaholic, hardly a material for motherhood. As William later proved," I finished bitterly.

"I'm sure you had no choice," Laura gently stroked my arm. She didn't seem to able to keep her hands off of me. She must have been touching her son through me and it felt good to have William seen in me. "You had to protect him. Just like I did."

"There's always a choice," I sniffed. "And who knows where would we all be now had I made a different one…"

"I never would've met him," she contemplated. "Despite all the pain and heartache I went through because of him, I can't imagine never meeting him."

"Me either," I agreed.

"Can I make you a coffee?" Laura asked suddenly, as if she just realized I was a guest and she's supposed to offer. "Or would you like a tea? Something to eat?"

"Sure," I smiled. "Whatever you got."

I wasn't really hungry and I doubted I could force myself to eat and keep anything in my stomach, but I needed a moment alone and I believed she needed it just as much. We've been through an emotional roller coaster in the last few minutes and we both needed a break for the storm to settle down, before we continued our conversation. There was so much more to talk about.

"Here," Laura gave me a photo album. "I thought you might want to look through them while I fix us something."

"Thank you," I said, my voice breaking. I opened the album, trying to keep my tears away from it. There he was, a beautiful little boy about five years old, Laura Petrie and a man who must have been her husband. The boy looked so happy, so innocent, so loved… William Petrie. Just another life my son didn't get to have…

When Laura returned with tea and sandwiches, I took two pictures from my wallet and handed them to her. One was of William as a baby, which I took shortly after his birth. The other one was of him now, as a teenager, the one Charlie gave me before I left them.

Laura didn't cry anymore. She kissed both pictures and pressed them to her heart.

"Thank you," she smiled. "For saving my life. For the second time."

"Thank you for being his mother when I couldn't," I said back at her.

"Can I…" she hesitated. "Can I see him again?"

"It's up to him," I shrugged. "I wonder the same thing every day. I hope and pray he'll give us both a chance."

"Where is he, Dana?"

"In Germany. With my brother. We have ways of communicating with Europe again, but it could take months before safe travel becomes possible again. Once it does, I hope he will want to visit us."

"He will. I know he will," Laura sounded so sure, while I had many doubts. He knows I shot him, he knows I cut his neck, and Bill said he resents me for it. But then again, Bill always saw the worst in people and I had to take his words with a grain of salt. And even if William refused to see me, he had no reason to resent Laura. I didn't want to bring her down with my worries.

"He will," she repeated, sensing my reluctance to believe that. "Look at you! You came all the way here to meet me, even if it meant losing him to me. If he is anything like you, he will come back to us, he will give us a chance to explain and make it up to him as much as we can. And he is. Like you. I know him. And you know him too. You may not have raised him, but he is your son."

"He's our son," I squeezed her hand. If I had any doubts about going to her, they were all gone.

"Yes," Laura agreed. "Our son."

After spending an hour with this woman I already considered her a close friend. It felt like I've known her for a long time. It even felt like my son was born for her just as much as for me and it helped lessen my guilt about my mistakes when it came to him. Maybe we were all meant to end up in this place, like this. Maybe there really was no other choice, even if we tried to make it…

Maybe you can never have everything… I lost Mulder after giving birth to our son, and I found him again after losing William. Now that I found William again, I lost his father again. Maybe it was a destiny that couldn't be resolved, a circle that couldn't be broken… Maybe it was time to let the love of my life go…

I asked Laura to come with me, to tell Mulder stories about our son that I never experienced to talk about. I asked Skinner to be there as well, to tell him the little that he knew about William from talking to Charlie all these years.

I told Mulder that even Bill believes in his recovery.

But none of that woke him up…

In the end, I told him not to worry about any of us. I gave him permission to stop fighting and find his peace.

I told him that I love him and I always will.

Then I took him off life support.

I pulled the plug.

I kissed him goodbye.

And waited…

My hand in his.

Forever.

 _The End_

 _(But stay tuned for the epilogue. Thank you for following this story, it obligated me to finish it even though I really wanted to give up a long time ago, having no idea how to continue… In the end I'm happy with the result and I have you, readers, to thank for it. I just wanted you to know that.)_


	20. Mulder and Scully (Epilogue)

(Charlie)

"Hi," I said awkwardly. "My name is Charlie."

He didn't answer, and surprisingly that didn't make this any easier. I wasn't ready to talk to him, but when would I ever be ready? I've spent a huge part of my life running from one thing or the other, and it didn't do me any good. It was time to man up and… talk to a dead person, apparently.

Or as good as dead. Whatever.

"Charlie Scully," I sighed. "Although, I don't have the right to carry that name, no more than you have the right to carry yours. I'm _his_ son, too. I'm… I'm your brother, Fox."

I thought that might wake him, not because of his own surprise, but because it was a huge thing for me to admit. I never told anybody and I never thought I would. I expected the world to stop turning and the man in vegetative state to get up and point an accusing finger at me, blaming me for my mother's sins. That's how big this thing was, big enough to wake the man who's been in coma for over a year and who wouldn't die even though his doctors, including my sister - his lover, gave him zero chance to live.

Well, apparently my admission wasn't really a big thing after all. He remained unresponsive and unfazed.

"Look at us," I chuckled, being inappropriate as ever. I once learned to blame my genes for it, but now, facing the man with the same genes who never used them as an excuse, I felt pathetic.

"Look at us," I repeated, amused. "Mulder and Scully, Scully and Mulder, even though both of us are actually Spender!"

And just like that, that hated name lost its power over me. It didn't matter anymore.

I was raised in a very traditional and very religious family. I married very young, losing my virginity on my wedding night. I loved her and she wanted to wait. I just followed the rules, being the pride and joy of my family, and that extended to my wife's family. We were blessed with beautiful, healthy children. A decent, honorable life.

Then my father died and I learned it was all a lie. I wasn't really Scully. My parents' marriage, the ideal on which I built my own, wasn't faithful. My father was not my real father, and even worse, some evil, godless man was. Everything I ever knew felt like a lie. I couldn't trust anybody and I couldn't talk to anybody. I was too ashamed. Too broken. I started doubting the paternity of my own children and faithfulness of my own wife. I looked for comfort in other women, ruining my marriage in the process. My parents, the people I trusted the most, raised me in a lie, and nothing felt like truth anymore.

I became everything I despised. And I kept running from it, knowing that there was no place to run, but being too big of a coward to end my meaningless life.

William at least gave me a purpose, but he didn't give me true peace. No one could give it to me except for me, and I realized that at last, while talking to a man who couldn't talk back.

In the end, I came home, back where everything started. Everything was different, but it still felt like home. We were all different, but we still felt like a family. Not entirely by blood, but completely by heart. And I realized, in the end, that's the only thing that matters.

My children taught me that when they welcomed me with open arms and without grudges.

My sister taught me that when she found a woman who adopted her son, a grave of a woman who adopted him before that, and welcomed them both into her life, sharing the joy of motherhood instead of keeping it for herself.

Laura Petrie taught me that when she loved William as a son, even though they weren't related by blood. She fell apart after I took him from her arms and she never forgot about him. I didn't expect to ever see her again, but there she was, engaged to my best friend, waiting for her… our William to return to a home he couldn't remember, but ready to make new, forever memories.

Walter Skinner taught me that when he risked his life and his job for my nephew, for my sister, for me… He was and always will be a rock that everybody can count on, especially when everything else fails. He was there when Dana took Fox off the life support machines, and continued to be there when he failed to die just as much as he failed to live… Laura was there too, and after a while they found themselves together there instead each on their own. They got engaged and now Skinner is proud to call himself one of William's fathers, after he marries one of his mothers.

William taught me that in million little moments that we shared in our life of endless running, moving and traveling, having no constant except for each other.

My brother taught me that when he welcomed me into his house, without conditions and despite our long and heavy estrangement.

My sister in law taught me that when she took care of our nephew, despite him reminding her of the unbearable pain caused by a loss of her only son. She always looked like she was crying, but she never cried in front of us.

Visiting my mother's grave taught me that, seeing the name Scully proudly written there, even though she wasn't Scully by blood. My father gave the name to her and that made it hers just as much as his. My father knew I wasn't his blood, but he gave me his name anyway and raised me as his own. My mother was true Scully, and in the end, so am I.

Charles William Scully. I am again proud and honored to call myself that. I am not ashamed anymore. I raised William without telling him my real name, changing names as often as if they were underwear. I pretended it was for security reasons, but now I know it was more a desire to be anybody else than who I really was.

Not anymore. I know who I am now. I am not Charles GB Spender. I am Charlie Scully. And there is a whole world of difference between us.

Fox Mulder taught me that, just by listening.

"She loves you, Fox," I told him. "My sister. She loves you and she needs you. If you can, wake up for her. But if you can't, I want you to know I'll be there for her. I will never leave her, never again. Your son wants to meet you, too. He lives with Bill now, it's in Germany which seemed like the end of the world recently, but in a few months it should be safe for him to fly here. He took his deceased cousin's identity, we came up with that to protect him in case somebody out there is still searching for him… Nobody is searching for Matthew Scully and in the apocalyptic chaos his death was never officially registered. Legally, he never died and your son just took his place. We still call him William, and even that is nothing unusual, since William was Matthew's middle name. He is proud to call Tara and Bill mom and dad, but he is just as proud to call Dana and Laura moms and you and Skinner dads. Ever since the internet came back, he's been skyping with them every day. For a kid who grew up having nobody but a strange uncle, this huge family is a dream come true. It is the most unconventional family I ever heard of, but it's ours and it's the best I could ask for. Wake up and see for yourself… brother!"

I chuckled again, feeling like a little kid talking to a scary big brother. Except that this brother wasn't scary, at least not until he wakes up. I wanted to give him a reason to wake up. Dana said they didn't know if he could hear us or not, but we all hoped that he could and if there was even a tiniest possibility that our words could bring him back we had to keep trying.

I looked at my watch, it was time to leave, I was meeting with my daughter soon.

I said goodbye and walked out of Mulder's room, but I didn't get far before I started chuckling again. I went back to give him a quick nudge.

"Wake up and marry my sister, Fox," I smiled at him, remembering Dana's determined words and a face that she makes when she plans to go to the end of the world to get what she wants and nothing can stop her. "She will say yes this time."


End file.
